She is a lullaby,
her song sings me to sleep
through the darkest of nights.
Her words carry me through
this gravestone world of scares.
Her song turns my ice to blood
and my stony structure, to bone.
She weathers down my sandy exterior,
until fresh skin I wear
in this moonlight home.
She creates rivers, oceans
and deep reflective seas.
She plants seeds in her words
that grow all through me.
A sacred rhythm
takes hold of my soul,
and this love I’ve been given,
she my lullaby
with golden words,
like thin twine
to sew together the sections
of my patchwork mind.
Singing me to sleep,
slowing my heartbeat.
Until every drip of her words pour
like honey mixed with fine wine.
I'd let that sweet nectar take me away
I'd happily drift through the soft satin light,
melting into the night
from the ice cold of day.
She has a shimmering quality,
her words sing through me.
A fantasy, given lifelike purity.
She cures me of any fear I hold.
Her skin I sink within like a pillow embracing,
warming my heart which has grown cold.
She sways in and out of view,
like a beam of moonlight through clouds.
My lullaby. Never shouting loud.
A soft, lovelorn sigh whispering to me,
on the darkest of nights.
When demons take the streets
and my vision is filled with frights,
she plants a forest of kisses,
with every breath she breathes
and I become one
of thier floating, falling leaves.
Thanks for reading
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