Love · sad · words

Salt on my lips

There’s so little love in the world
The easiest thing to born in a soul
But it’s rare like angels dust
For some, it’s a black moth in a pitch black room
Filtered words that only echo from a distance
Longing that sometimes dies still waiting
I don’t remember much when I saw hands around a body
Submurging bodies in pure emotion that some say is as light as a breeze
Sometimes, when I dream about it, I let myself drift too close to maybes
Places where I see kind eyes looking at me
The air around me so still but vibrating with energy that feels like silken sheaths
Sometimes there are whispers
Hidden just behind the threshold where my fingers can reach
Breaking the walls inside until I can’t hold it in anymore
The spreading feeling igniting my blood, so profound that I answer its presence with water
Salted water
Rivers that flow over my cheeks and the ridges of my face that sometimes I taste it
Sometimes when I sit still
I can hear love
Offered on a table where I’m part of the picture too.

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