Leave everything behind.
You never really created, only captured
and pieced together like baby's fingers grasping.
I breathe, and I am in awe.
I hear the rise and I fall.
These are days of beauty,
so full, like walks in the rain.
What kind of love are these roses?
The only promise you try to suffocate.
I want your thorns broken
and your petals, wet.
Soak just a little while
in a stranger's smile and gaze.
While I search for ways
for us, to last, a little, longer.
