October 3, 2012

  • What I wanted were his words

    He is all comforting shoulders and strong arms around me. Snow-soft kisses and understanding eyes.

    But I am not so concrete. What I wanted were his words.

    I want to see them fluttering under your breath and hiding in your hair. I want to find them under the couch or in your gaping wallet, my currency of choice. I want to snatch them from the whisper trail of passing birds, to pull them from the open sky with my greedy fists and show you - ”These! These … Do you have them? Where are yours? 

    Will you give me your words?”