To him

Sunday

 

 

Walk with me,

barefoot

along this path

we know is unknown.

Your hand enclosing mine,

our two souls

entwined,

and our hearts,

well, 

who knows

how high they’ve   f  l  o  w  n  ?


 

D  a  n  c  e   with me,

silly monkey,

for you know 

I’d only dance with you.

Stepping on your toes,

and 

as the saying goes,

falling

.

.

.

is just another way

to fly.


 

Whisper my name,    

w  i  l  l     y  o  u  ?

under 

the vast dark blanket of sky.

L  o  o  k  into my eyes the way

you always do,

and tell me 

again

and again

the how’s, 

the when’s,

and why.

 

Hold me,

for there may come 

a time 

when we can no longer    s  e  e .

The stars

that burned bright in such fiery light

can turn cold

when we let those flames

retreat 

to their embers.

 

 

Line my face 

with your gentle fingers,

longingly,

surely,

for someday I will want to fly 

and go some place distant,

f  r  e  e ,

alone,

complete,

yet

wanting to be 

with you. 

 

Stay

when I want to be alone

for sometimes 

I

convince myself 

I am strong

when

all

within me

I am grasping 

and trying 

to hold together what’s already been

torn.  


 

Know 

it will not be easy,

to always walk alongside me

for

such is my nature to want to be 

alone 

and completely free.

 

 

Don’t

falter

when I seem to falter 

for sometimes I simply allow myself 

the necessary pain.

Separate 

yourself from

me 

and try 

to understand

what my words desperately

try

to express.

 

 

Let me    g  o  ,

so    y  o  u   can fly 

for I know you will find your way back.

Just 

remember 

who you are, 

what you are

and where you dreamed to go

and never lose sight

of what you once 

had.

 

 

And

when I seem              

d  i  s  t  a  n  t    

 

just know

when to knock

and I will open the door

to be with you

completely

  and

forever    m  o  r  e .

 

 
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