there is no more of that, of them, there is just what is.
you walk me up a stone path and you tell me you are scared
i am strong you are strong you always have been
this morning is not about the words in your pocket but the sounds of your voice as you tell me truths
your evolution, your gorgeous, intense, godsmacking evolution.
little can be said beyond the fact that when your blood breathes, it breathes freely. that when you alight, there shall be a spring in your step and i shall let you twirl me ’round.
it is morning, and you are awakened in the dead of night wondering, and then you remember. it will – it always will – be okay. as it was intended.