I miss the scent
of a thousand roses
that bursts from the wall
in your presence,
the warmth
of crackling fire
while rain pours outside
when I hold you
close
until
we’re an atom apart,
breathing
from each other’s mouths,
and the constellations
inside us
warping to burst
together.
I miss the glow
of your cheeks
when you see me pass
from one corner
of the room
to another,
sneaking in a kiss
I can’t help but ask
before I walk past,
and coming back for more
until we’re lost
under the blankets
again,
while the world spins
mindlessly
around us,
until we resurface.
But hold me
close
in your dreams.
I will step
out of the cloudlands
into your waking world
soon after
I collect the words
I’ve been stitching together
from my heart
that I may offer you
a humble revière
of all the sweet nothings
we’ve exchanged
and will again
next time the roses
bloom.
Next Time the Roses Bloom
July 12, 2022
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