Dear Heart...

Dear Heart...

Dear heart,

I’ve always wished for the floating clouds to cradle you—

Not the prickling hay,

Nor the coldness of a stone.

That’s why I kept away from the fume of his breath,

Spiraling out to claim my neck.

Why I kept my skin

Far from his touch,

And my gaze lowered—

Afraid to catch a glimpse of his allure.

Before our demons introduced themselves,

Conversing in foreign tongues,

Until their languages aligned.

Before we learned the weight of each other’s pain,

Before the first tear fell—

Before felicity’s mirth

Broke into a fragile smile.

After he laid an embroidery

Of my unborn thoughts before my feet,

And I danced for him—

Moved by the tunes of his unvoiced desires.

After we mastered

The art of creating one melody from two keys.

Only then did I wish for you to—

But why bother, dear heart,

When time follows her own accord?

Inconsiderate of humanity’s blight,

And their fevered yearning to possess a kindling

That conceals an inferno in her womb.