I stole your seat,
you called me "Uncomfortable...
Years ago....
Words would traffic jam within...
I want soft candlelight and deep conversations;
Paired with warm blankets as soft as our laughter...
Want to keep silent,
just to live, but seeing faults...
The sun begins to bow
As the candlelight vigil begins...
somewhere deep under
there’s a poet in me...
She was born in a field...
Plucked in her tweens...
Daydreaming of you
And in my sleep...
Dont forget to rest
Your sweet acorn eyes...