The hinges of my arms
Will open like doors for you,
My mouth
Your welcome mat,
Hang your troubles on your back
Upon my shoulders,
Let me bear the weight.
Light the fire in
My tummy, hug me
And we will both be warmed,
Open up my windows
And I will air our thoughts,
My chest is a perfect cushion,
Where your head gently moulds,
Just stop and rest upon me
And let yourself unfold,
. . .
So why don’t you slip your key in again,
The spare one, that matches mine.
See what you may unlock,
For I am what will house you,
When the world spits you out,
I will always be your shelter,
The place you can
Kick your shoes off and stretch your feet
For I am always here,
Saving you a seat.
In this home,
There will forever be,
A fire burning,
Windows open,
Doors ajar,
No matter how long you’ve travelled,
Or however near
Or far.
This home will always be here,
Eyes glowing,
Waiting for that key twist
In her door.
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 8:20 PM UTC
The hinges of my arms
Will open like doors for you,
My mouth
Your welcome mat,
Hang your troubles on your back
Upon my shoulders,
Let me bear the weight.
Light the fire in
My tummy, hug me
And we will both be warmed,
Open up my windows
And I will air our thoughts,
My chest is a perfect cushion,
Where your head gently moulds,
Just stop and rest upon me
And let yourself unfold,
. . .
So why don’t you slip your key in again,
The spare one, that matches mine.
See what you may unlock,
For I am what will house you,
When the world spits you out,
I will always be your shelter,
The place you can
Kick your shoes off and stretch your feet
For I am always here,
Saving you a seat.
In this home,
There will forever be,
A fire burning,
Windows open,
Doors ajar,
No matter how long you’ve travelled,
Or however near
Or far.
This home will always be here,
Eyes glowing,
Waiting for that key twist
In her door.
Request permission to use this poem