With every passing hour of Spring, my love

There are numberless questions to be asked,
some of which
no matter how hard I try,
remain within the barriers of less than rosy lips—
after hours are no longer bruising;
I have surrendered to the flow of the universe.
The sky, a witness to ever-increasing ardor that blooms in
my breast,

who designed this path we are treading upon?
Barely a whisper,
my name upon your tongue reveals far more shades
than one,
and I think back to the times when I have made you laugh—
my skin yet to feel your touch,
revels in the warmth of your eyes instead.
Without you, breath is nothing more than a wisp of smoke
that hurts;
routine in the form of your embrace is what my heart yearns for.

 

 

 

Photo credits: Pinterest

“With him, life was routine; without him, life was unbearable.”
― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

Day Twenty-eight ~ Harper Lee

Skylover Wordlist: Numberless 💝

Posted for Play It Again @ Real Toads