some pretty things

some pretty thing

to be right in

or wrong for that matter

the difference

is what?

you see me

the air is thick with anticipation

don’t lose the lust you have

the passion that fuels the desire

the fire that drives this engine

the mirror in my mind has awful fears it tries to hide

behind walls of fortitude

I hope you know my vulnerability

I’ll show you yours if you show me mine.

I am weak for the flowers you bring to me and the little things that make you think of me

when we are together

my course is clearer

Please don’t stop holding the door for me

even when we are familiar like branches in the same tree

you be the Knight

and I will be your Joan of Arc.

Reality is brutal but we must still play

in the quiet morning hours whilst our bodies rise and fall

in the growing pale yellow day

I dreamt of the potential

waiting in the silence

and in the first deciding moment

the gravity of words like stones thrown into silver water

a whisper wakes my sleeping ear

a prayer floats through the air

simultaneous release

and we begin.

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