He loves me from a distance,
whispers in my dreams.
He is the sky, breathing
a breeze of decomposed leaves.
Come into my arms.
He is the sun piercing the clouds
after a thunderstorm.
He covers me with a blanket
woven from the stars and moon.
Come into my arms.
His face is a clock with no hands.
He gifts me a season
of time winding down to stop.
Tick tock tick tock.
Come into my arms.
He guides me to the dance floor
He is a winter chill on my neck.
He offers eternal embrace.
He offers a dark forever.
Come into my arms.
published in Write Under the Moon
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