to the betrothed

The sweet chirp of a parrot at the feeder

seems as innocent as your love.

When it breathes,

exhales pure oxygen.

When it clicks,

It doesn’t scrape.

There is no friction.

In this fusion

I see no confusion,

it pairs better than lemonade.

 

So much trust,

any storm that tried to rust it

would be exhausted.

You never have to force it.

A smooth union

I can base all my hope on.

A hand in the dark,

glowing like a flare.

 

A dam of love retention

swells with my attention.

The adoration emanating from your skin

and the gaze of child to idol,

are akin.

Makes me wonder

how I can rid all the tension

from within.

 

Open faces

hide nothing.

I’ve looked a thousand places,

not many will share that look.

An open book,

a pleasure to read.

You turn the pages

from one joy to another.

Delights that last

for ages.

Like an open window,

I see the spots I would go

if I could understand how you got there.

 

Each moment only takes it higher

for me to admire.

So much better

than me.

I doubt my mind will ever be that clear,

but for my heart

I will never say never.

 

It keeps me going

through the times I sit crying

about; all the things in the world dying,

all the people who are lying,

all the ones who struggle so hard

are barely just surviving,

all the values that need reviving

but everyone’s stopped trying.

 

The density and magic of hurtloam,

the intensity and comfort of feeling at home,

the guarantee of not being alone.

The golden taste of the season’s first fruit

reminds me of the smiles I see shared

between you.

I smile too.

I know,

in your hands

the world will be safe.

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