meet me in the dream where the windows open onto bird flight

          with sparrows flitting shadows across the room,

where songs splinter in through door cracks and open air vents

          dancing the dust out of our breath. 

meet me where the light filtering in is liquid and golden and paint,

          the bird song brushstrokes streaking across our bodies,

                    and paint me into the sunbeam.

Posted in response to the challenge Hygge.



17 years old