I fall back
on uttered words.
In them
I find comfort.
Like a spear
of newly birthed rays,
slipping silently
between complacent
drapes.
The warmth I feel
like love upon my skin -
wholesome and sufficient.
And the day matures
as do the words.
What used to soothe
now burns as hot as
the midday sun.
*Draw the curtains.
Your mind isn’t yet ready
and is no match
for smouldering embers.*
I tripped.
I fell on uttered words.
Here I am,
engulfed and cocooned
in heavy drapes.
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 5:34 AM UTC
I fall back
on uttered words.
In them
I find comfort.
Like a spear
of newly birthed rays,
slipping silently
between complacent
drapes.
The warmth I feel
like love upon my skin -
wholesome and sufficient.
And the day matures
as do the words.
What used to soothe
now burns as hot as
the midday sun.
*Draw the curtains.
Your mind isn’t yet ready
and is no match
for smouldering embers.*
I tripped.
I fell on uttered words.
Here I am,
engulfed and cocooned
in heavy drapes.
