White sheets
on a plain bed
two pillows and a spread.
The simplest image
yet the strongest longing
Frustration in the wells of
the disturbed duvet
hills of loneliness
uncomfortably lingering
in the spring mattress.
Fresh daisies and cotton
mixing with sweat and tears
the scent of a young lover
left alone to roam those roads
all on her own
Missing. Lost in translation
from life to art to life again
fell from the edge of the frame
and onto the carpet
It's been months. She's been collecting dust
little by little and peace by piece
her mind wandering as she lets go at last
her breath the flutter of a newborn butterfly
She took a step back. She broke, again and again
hidden away, shattered and reborn
a kaleidoscope of fragments and memories
bursting out into the world
each side of her a different story
each one beautiful and whole again
She wants to share her story
as they talk about their day
rejoice in the touch of his fingertips
and the softness of her skin
cherish the sincerity of his laugh
as they pull each other close
appreciate the warmth of his breath
and the clarity in his eyes
being the first thing he sees
waking up from the sweetest dream
and knowing that regardless
she is the reason for his smile
But not yet.
Her hands smooth down the bedding.
One less mountain to climb, she thinks
slipping into the plain bed
and under the white sheets.
Only one more sleep, only a few more days
a couple more dreams and symphonies
and one more poetic line
to wish her rampant thoughts goodnight.
a poem I wrote and forgot about, before we came together again
