maelynslavik

I run and I run and I run. 

I don’t know which route to take. 

The wrong one, and I just might break.

April, my admiral, 

lighten my wings with your shrill whistle, 

We are all born containing a roll of wool

Soundlessly, mine intertwined with yours

My other half

Merged and fused 

Not on a leash nor a chain 

A delicate soft lace 

As I stood there

Crying in the rain

I stopped and stared

At the sunset before me

My tears fell faster

As I remembered

The feel of his arms

Around me

And thought of how

Distant he’s been