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Humble Dreamer
02:07
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She speaks in waves.
My mind, a shore.
I feel everything.
A constant wash into the new.
She paces herself in steady silence.
The multitude of thoughts supply her wealth.
A priceless moment that costs a listening ear.
I would go broke to hear you speak again.
She abides in her heartbeat.
I sleep to the rhythm of her stillness.
Through the phone, I lay beside her.
Whispered nothings will mean everything to me.
She's quiet, a humble dreamer.
In the quiet hours beneath the sheets,
we speak slowly, as if every syllable were a century.
From her lips, whispers drip into my lungs, as if to give breath back to my bones.
Our hearts drone as war song drums in the deep of our chests, and
I'll never stop telling her how much I enjoy feeling that beat against me when I hold her close.
We fall asleep to the static, phones pressed to ears painting atmospheres.
I swear, I can feel you here.
We fell asleep, and the airwaves carried our anatomies through the night as it escaped by the hour, and in it's patient wandering, I awoke to the gentleness of morning's greeting.
I never left, and you always stay.
Through glorious giggles and groggy sentiments, we wake,
and I get hung up on the inevitable notion of hanging up.
She's quiet, and I can't stop dreaming.
SALMIST © 2014. All Rights Reserved. Do Not Copy Or Reproduce Without Explicit Written Consent. www.salmist.com
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