At 4 A.M. I write sometimes.

My Soul, a Steeped Tea

I want to write across your face the beauty that I see
I want to sigh and paint an aria so sweet and tremulously

I want to kiss you with the scent of a thousand summer blooms
I want to wrap my arms around you with the warmth of familiar rooms

I want to blink and in that moment still you suddenly in time
I want to utter but simple words with the zest of a Florida key lime

I want to stretch my arms and begin to mold a dance
I want to tie an apron around my waist and bake a thick romance

I want to go to sleep presently just to wake within my dreams
And between the linen pages I want to stuff and sew my seams.


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