I want to be
wrapped in your arms
how the tree's branches
intermingle with the wind;
how the peaks of the hills
tumble over
one another's shadow at dusk;
how mist clings to dew
on grass wisps
whistling a good morning tune
back to the roosters' song at dawn,
the silent clap of two hearts
high-fiving
amidst the storm's handshake
with forest fingertips,
complimenting eyelash bats
and butterfly kisses
under the Moon's pupil;
how the stars trip
over their two left feet
and come crashing down
into your atmosphere
intertwined with mine.
Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 4:40 PM UTC
I want to be
wrapped in your arms
how the tree's branches
intermingle with the wind;
how the peaks of the hills
tumble over
one another's shadow at dusk;
how mist clings to dew
on grass wisps
whistling a good morning tune
back to the roosters' song at dawn,
the silent clap of two hearts
high-fiving
amidst the storm's handshake
with forest fingertips,
complimenting eyelash bats
and butterfly kisses
under the Moon's pupil;
how the stars trip
over their two left feet
and come crashing down
into your atmosphere
intertwined with mine.
