I instead of Y

If all we are is dust in the wind,

Let the wind scatter us until we reach the heavens,

Tug on the pearly gates attempting to blend in,

Become the fabric of divinity,

The atom that spawned all creation. 




Because I've never felt anything divine before,

But I'm coming closer and closer as I reach your door,

Your voice echoing off the ceiling,

Bouncing back and forth between the walls,

Until it makes it into my head,

All trains of thought are stopped,

I'm all your.




You swing back and forth,

Like a star on a pendelum between the moon and the rising sun,

Your voice hibernates in my head,

Comes through when I need it the most,

Cradles me in a cocoon,

Until like that dust in that wind,

I'm cradled into your heavens.




It's all I want and all I dream,

To live a life usually reserved to dreams,

In your bedroom where we speak in moans,

In your city where your laughter gives color to everything,

It's all I dream. 




And if all we are is products of time and space,

Then I want all my time to be in your space,

Kissing every inch of your face,

Until time turns into moments,

And space is nonexistent,

And we lose track of every emotion but bliss.




Your name,

Ends with an I instead of the usual y,

And you always make me wonder why,

You didn't appear to me sooner,

At least in literature or a dream,

Could never expect you to actually exist in reality....




But when our dust is scattered in the wind,

It will form our portrait of heaven,

A canvass that is constantly blank yet filled with color,

Every experience new,

Every day is heaven with you.
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s