If I came to you,
and you stroked my hair,
and caressed the side of my face,
all downy and soft.
Then whispers could happen ~
and I’d see in the iris of your eyes
every flight of birds,
all the summer’s butterflies,
and the jagged cliffs above the river ~
until we traveled
this world together.
You’d know me and speak my name
so softly
I could hear it in your
heart’s cave.
And together our gaze
could enflame tenderness to include love.
If I came to you.