Nov 21
Emily Van Dyke's picture

Her love

I yearn for it; her. 

Her beautiful green dress highlighted with the gold throats of birds, puzzled together with golden ferns.

She housed me and my loud sense of passion, as I knew she cared enough to ignite it. She dipped my chocolate hair into a never ending bead of water and flowers. She does no harm, but yet can reek months of bitter death consuming cold. She teaches us to be lasting by giving us more to handle than we can bear weight to. Yet I love her, her skin of wind, her fingernails embedding into her green curled hair. Her body, moving through the trees, touching and breathing fire into her hearts. I am free with her. As I am her child.