if I died today
my love
unexpressed
would bloom
from my chest
and sow seeds
of a thousand
new worlds
and in them
we are whole
together
hand in hand
the red string
that binds us
twisting between
stars and planets
our soles have
never trod
we wander in
unknowing
of the little Love
which bid us
grow
Month: September 2025
home.
any house could be a home,
they said, but
you made me believe it.
all my other tenants,
“ah but the windows don’t catch the
evening light the way i like it,”
“the floorboards creak and
cry in protest when i walk,
“don’t you just wish the walls
were painted some lovely color?”
you waltzed into the front door,
drew back the curtains,
peeked beneath the soft carpets,
ran gentle fingers over dusty walls,
“what a beautiful home,
might i stay?”
tired.
if my weary bones could rest,
they would sink deep,
deep into the soil where
my young feet ran barefoot,
quiet in the moisture of the
earth, the cool weight
of moss and leaves and
heavy nighttime air.
if a place existed for me,
a home to beckon me return,
it would be in the deep
woods and the still lakes,
sunshine dancing in green
patterns, a song sighing
with the wind.
iamwhatshewrote 