My ~ Poem ~ My ~ Crime

What will we do at the end of time. When words and pages are no longer yours, no longer mine?
Hair is of midnight, eyes are of sea-glass. Greener than any depth, most dazzling, you've ever seen.
She writes and she reads the pages and every word in between.

Heart worn on the outside of her chest.

The words are like morsels of nourishment to our souls. Without them our very breath would be lost.

So bring us each letter all flaxen in gold, sprinkled and brazen, there's so much more to behold.

Mysterious and driven, by the hearts yearning to say. All that is in us all that wants to escape.
Fear has no boundaries and damn the beguiled. For the pages beneath the pen each one is compiled.

Is but a vessel for the ship that has sailed. The journey, it may be long and ragged. But the bleeding of pages is the cure for the heart turned to ash. Release my dying sweet splendor of rhyme. Love me dearly, my poem my crime.

~

For my sweet Meggy

{Valentina Silver©️}