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.



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