My whispered
I love you's
won't ever
change a thing,
but I spin them
to the air
like samara seeds,
helicopter melodies.
For truth is
better than a lie,
even if
it is only
heard on
a star
many
miles away.
I let them sit
on the edge
of my lips
and on the
smeared ink
of my page,
not to make
a case for myself,
but for them
to be held
for what they are.
Truth born under
a midnight star.
My whispered sighs,
those goodbyes
that lasted too long,
the kisses in your eyes,
where I longed to belong.
The smiles that sat upon
beauty itself, the hair that
I spun a thousand stories on.
The arms you held around me.
The warmth inherent in you.
The songs that waltzed through
every danced footstep.
My I love you's
won’t ever change a thing
but they speak truth
and I only whisper them for you.
I let them sit
delicately melting into my page
like ice on a hot summer day.
I let them play in the margins,
I let them spin yarns of longing,
I let them explore galaxies
forming from stars reborn,
like snowflake smiles
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