she sleeps wrapped
silent
as a bouquet of black flowers
editing the pauses between
her thoughts
the fan whispers
a language
all of its own
tremulous
breathless
mimicking the outside
rising whistling wind
a cloud looms and floats
within her mind
the thought of returning home
to a place
she's yet to discover
next to her,
sonorous
and snoring
he is...
tossed on the waves
of his breath-filled sleep
he wrestles with formless phantoms
cunning, they are and
how do they know how
to read his thoughts?
kissing his cheek
murmuring
she half-speaks:
"you're alright sweet pea,
I'm here..."
knowing
they both need their days
in the sun
to evaporate their fear
when I'm on the outside
looking in
I think
where's my path...
where do I fit?
there's gaps in my breathing
as I lie awake in your bed
small gasps
restlessness
questions
the hoping for better
and mixed in the gratitude
for some days
just how it is
knowing the fine regard
how they share for one other
is the saving glue
the glimmer of light
which turns blackness
into sunrise
and dawning pink-tinged blue.
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AND ALSO FOR THIS AUTHOR/WRITER/POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS
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MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD