SeaCritter39

An evening alone Thinking over a mug, filled to the brim With heat, and sweetness. Waking in the morning, The cup is now room temperature and slightly bitter But it helps to get through the day. Coming home The cup is cold and strong. Adding milk Reheating the mug, Stewing in the bath to reheat yourself.  Climbing back into bed and realizing that the cup will always be there when you need it. On the bedside table waiting, or patient in the cupboard. 

To write until my fingers bleed To paint and wait for the vibrant red To rust To sing my throat into ruin To dance the pads of my toes raw To taste the sweet wind on my unconcerned tongue To feel plush soft grass  Moist with dew Beneath my legs Cold, and wonderful Honeyed wine warms my belly Sunlight melts away the near-permanent frown wrinkles You tickle my nose with a strand of your hair Your smile, my star, shines through my blurry vision Your visage will always be pleasant  Not unlike the moon I never tarry long Now I've found you worth the wait Goodnight, my precious You have my gratitude, my love I am full of simple fea

The butterflies aren't just in my stomach I feel the wings of moths beating for light Pounding against the lining in my heart Trying to escape the confines Of confusing valves Chambers flooded with blood soak up their effort Crumpled little sugar wings Still they struggle For release.