Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Day 4: For You

your eyes open,
tranquil like the lazy twilight
peeking into our most secret places.
If only peace was forever
a mess curly hair, wet skin
as you step from the shower.
On these nights, with your fears
cracked wide open,
a sickly child staring through your eyes
I cannot help but love you more.

No comments:

Post a Comment