lofted low, beneath
a smiling horizon,
your lover awaits with tantalizing
promise:
a brand
new
day
what has passed
may yet come to pass
for some,
but never for you.
you will miss
the calm whisper of moonshadow
which,
already slips
across this goosebumped skin.
memories
sweeter than summer jasmine’s nightly call
lead me astray,
and errant fireflies
light
the road to abandon.
i should…..
i should return.
return to what I know, but
perhaps home,
is where the wild things grow.
theDeprevation 