before, questions lingered in the air. weary eyed nights were spent stuffing yourself into a small box for someone who only took you on long, winding, painful paths where the ends were shrouded by looming trees and bushes.
now, the air is blissfully clear. someone smiles when you stretch. they walk right alongside you. there may be darkness along the way, but they will hold your hand through it. the end of this path is straight ahead - bright, expansive, and fruitful.
The flowers meet as the words of thought, the leaves touch in the wind, here, you share the little poems of the earth with me, I hold you close under the sun, in each other arms as a blanket, a place where we will both feel safe, untorn in the warm amber glow, healing our sore souls in our gentle sleep, I will say to you, in silence, “the answer of your existence is my home”.
warm, bright words don't reside in your heart. an ice wall blocks the way as they depart. a shy, humble smile, "oh, it's no big deal," and those words are suddenly forced to kneel. the icicles ***** your weary shoulders, forming gashes, leaving you so much colder.
too much warmth? you burst into flames. too little? you're frozen and maimed. your hands, scarred and worn, rub in vain, ready to mourn as you look over the wall to stare at the glow that enthralls.