Soft bare feet;
It's glossed and vibrating the acoustics
Dancing off of Levi's guitar.
The berry coats my lips
And shimmers beneath the warm glow
Of a soft lamp.
The room is dim,
The candles dance as his voice fluctuates from
Low to high
To high
To low again;
The flame extends upward
Then condenses and expands outward.
He sings my heart...
Of heartbreaks
On long bus rides
In Europe-
Of ticking clocks
And love doesn't run out
Before logic.
But I don't pool backward into
Any memory of you
Because I do not allow myself to.
The frost kisses the window panes-
The smoke pipes outward
And dances across the silver
And navy quilts of October-
I am surrounded by warmth.
I feel a hand
Graze the freckles on
The top of my back.
And I'm home...
In this little house.
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