He is but the sweetest shiver of sound,
the coolest calming of sleep.
Let the light in, she whispered in between the mountain’s peaks.
She ravished the nights’ promises for what they may be.
Clouds lay close and seep into her veins, as blades of grass stand tall.
Ponds said, “Breathe,” as the daises began to crawl,
up those vines and into her lungs, she gasped as light stole a glance.
“Let us lay,” he said, “until those petals fall.”
