I just wrote. Because that entity of creativity is the only thing that cures it all and if that ceases to work I'll be left with. Nothing.
Something beautiful,
way out of my reach and simply the glint in your eye.
The depth of your breath,
and to know what story is wiped away each night.
The look you gave me after words -
as if a lost wedding ring,
meaningless when dropped
and a shocking blessing to receive.
My place of peace can never be the same,
never as rested or disconnected
and for that I'm not sorry,
because the stars saw it
and the moon took the hint.
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