Solace What a splendor is she, so replete with grace. she moves about in ethereal mode. Wisps of her presence entice passers by with a promise of knowing what cannot be. And I know. I do know when I am standing in her wake. Her scent lingers in the currents and eddies of each place she has been. It washes over me in the gentlest caress and for one moment, I am complete. Were I those currents and channels of air, I would separate and envelope her in a cradle by which I might gently lift and carry her away. Yet, fettered by the tethers of what is, I am not so content, but am inclined to tarry about her and to simply succumb. Such a quiet splendor is she… She slips as smoke through fog, moving with no assumption, yet casting a seine of silence before her. It is a reprieve- fashioned by the awe and wonder of those who would marvel at her way.
Reason for writing:
The first poem I wrote about the woman I love more than my own life. This was before we got together, when all I could do was dream of being with her. Some dreams are better left behind in the night.
Birth sign: Virgo
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