The loom of sleep rests softly in the air,
Thy eyes are blackly smudged across thy cheek.
The dreamy light will glitter in thy hair,
The silver sound will murmur as we speak.
The soft of silence curls contentedly,
Our words no more than aimless musing whim,
Our fingers twine together idly,
My breath is soft against thy sleepy skin.
Our world is where I wish that we could stay,
The darkness safe and soft beneath our bones.
Will we live long enough to feel the day?
When sunrise comes, will I still be alone?
How long can my heart hold its leaden cargo?
Will you be here, if not today, tomorrow?
I used the (rather dusty) poetry-writing part of my brain a little bit today. Iambic pentameter is actually pretty fun to write in once you get the hang of it. I suppose this isn’t my usual content, but damnit, it’s my blog and I shall post what I like.