When the air is heavy and stifling
in heated apathy,
And wrinkles of breezes
warm the night,
I Whisper anxious thoughts
To the listening stillness, and
the tremors of my heart are quick
and real.
When crystal tears make salt-paths under
my violet eyelids,
And worries are pinioned to the sobs
in my breathing,
I Hear a gentle voice inside me, tuned
To the pocket called Soul. It
tells me I have no need to feel afraid or to
cry in bed
Tenderly,
as if an angel's golden words are flowing
into me
It tells me that
Time is fleeting, but love is forever
And I wouldn't mind
spending forever with you.
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