Oh blue sky
How beautiful you are
So bright and calm
Not a cloud in sight.
The suns rays slipping down,
Warming the flowers and bringing happiness.
And although I prefer the company of the rain and clouds;
Sometimes I can't help but admire you.
For when you are around
The birds sing and the flowers bloom.
The children run out to play.
Oh blue sky
Won't you stay for the day?

The Moon has a gentle light, which he gifts the Earth,
It could be compared to how you talk to a child;
Careful, soft and in a sweet manner
His light doesn't hurt me, which is what I adore,
Therefore, is it bad that I tend to lose myself in his gaze ?
When he rises over me, in a clear, registered pace ?
Without a sound I let go of all troubles, all pain,
As the clouds open and it has stopped to rain,
Many people do want to be the sun to brighten up anothers day,
But not me, this is not something for me to say.
I wish to be alike the moon, brighten up your darkest of times,
And be here, to illuminate tomorrows very way
Tug you into a delicate embrace, like his light tends to do
And be here for you, till I have to rest too.
Even in the coldest of nights, the moon manages to warm my heart
And manages my heart not to just fall apart
Tonight again I will enjoy his light,
After all, I hope he does not leave my sight


~ Umi

The glance when you turn your head.
Electricity forming in the sockets of my eyes.
You feel like a blanket freshly pulled from the dryer.
The static undying.
I play coy.
Nervousness never known by me.
I feel the escape in your lips.
I feel inadequate.
You never fail to please.
Soft in nature.
Baby, be kind to me.

Golden hour always treats the earth
and it's inhabitants well,
giving every animal
a yellow and orange halo,
the plants and weeds
beads of light to adorn them
like jewelry,
and the people around you
a hazy glow.

m.e.

i can’t write about what it feels like
to run my fingers through your hair
or feel your hands on my skin
(no matter how much i want to)
i can’t speak to the softness of your lips
or what it sounds like
when you whisper my name
(no matter how much i want to)
i don’t know what the skin on your hips
feels like after you’ve showered
or what it’s like to wake up
to your breath on my shoulder
(no matter how much i want to)
i can’t write about the feeling
of our skin
soft and rough
holding hands
(oh god, i want to)
i can’t write about you
in anything other than the abstract
no
matter
how
much
i
want
to