Soft Words


Your soft words keep me coming back,
tender, caressed;
like a cheek in the wind.

Riding bicycles under the auburn leaves,
the autumn sun never stops forgetting.

I whisper into your ear –
a melody comes from afar,
passed on by brooks of lonely shores,
footprints in the sand
that steal the ocean from the sea.

Your words soft, they keep coming back to me,
tender, caressed;
like a better version of themselves.

I long for more, my soul
sips sky from the heavens.
Clouds may pour but you shine with
autumn, like a wheel that keeps on turning.

And we ride on.

Deep into the sun, your words
soft, they come back to me,
knocking on the door of my keep.

My servant opens it and summons my presence,
and I am adorned, ashamed, and asunder –
why have I built a wall this far around?

Your footsteps in the ocean quieten my soul
and we dance along the cotton clouds.

Sand and grains forget, they leave behind
traces of bright,
traces of light that sings – hope never ending,
always forgetting. Like a song
in a melody by your ear.

Get on our bikes and ride away;
the Keep is left behind, door unlocked,
house asunder; nothing left to adorn my name.

Nothing but your soft words that keep me
coming back. Tender, caressed;
like a cheek in the wind,
blowing past us when we sing the songs
of old. Dancing on the beach and making up
stories in the clouds that go past.
We make a sandcastle on the beach
but the oceans took away their gates.

We kiss and make up.
We ride on.


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