Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Tranquil Times

For the past few mornings
I could be seen with you
Tracing every line
Treasuring every memory on your face
I run my fingers over your laughter
All the smiles you have offered out
The happiness you presented, selflessly
To the world and in spite of the gods
Carefully I outline every sunrise
Every morning you allowed yourself
To breath in the open air
To bathe in the Sun's burning hand
If caution can be spelled
It reads like a vapor
Dissipating on your cheek
My soft fingers run over a life
Outlining long nights in smoke
I follow you trembling
Knowing that you are reality
Realizing that these eyes
Though closed in repose
Once buckled under heartbreak
Once flooded with uncertainty
As my hand records your everything
I wonder if this could be prayer
A message in thanks for this harbor
An oasis in a desert world
When will we return to the real?

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