I felt the sound of his voice crawling through my lonely bones
He trickled down these dusty pipes
His voice echoing around my bends
Washing away where I’ve been
There’s a slight pause between what is now and what was then
Choices are graveyards that will cost you your zen
You’re at it again

When the silence comes it forms in tears
But the way he kisses my dreams it brings comfort to my fears
And maybe it’s been him I’ve been missing all these years
So I clutch to the now in case he disappears

His voice is that light that trickles through the woods
And he’s not knocking on my door to sell me any goods
And his face is clear it’s not hiding under hoods
And the messages direct, not misunderstood

He is the calm of the wave pulling me in
A warm breeze of serenity
Letting him bask under my skin
Lingering lingering in him

A mid-morning freestyle that went from a non-rhyme to a rhyme ‘cuz I’m out of control… (and so is my hair)

6 AM Saturday morning snaps + poem
6 AM Saturday morning snaps + poem = thinking of him

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