Falling into your words. — daybreakcarve

The sounds put my heart into animated suspension

and it floats and

for those moments I pause during the free fall.

It doesn’t even matter what they (those words) are.

The air in my heart is light

and fresh and teal and sparkling

after listening to you tell me your every day.

Raw unfiltered honey

of pure joy

seeping from my seams

especially after the warm rumble burst of my heart when we meet.

When we wake up

will we know how to tell our story?

Do we keep it to ourselves,

a slow-burning engine that pushes us through each day

and then sparks?

The line fell.