Rose Petals
I am happy.
Those words are underestimated, heard but unseen
a warm breeze that slides along the cheek of another.
You make me happy.
I feel as though you cause my bloodstream
to regulate gallons upon gallons
of liquid rose petals
that pump warmth and light and hope into my heart
creating a being,
creating me.
I am beautiful, as well as strong
And you are my ambrosia.
Your voice
is something of sacred quality.
You have the ability to sound
as though you dipped your honey-coated words
Into a bubbly champagne
that disintegrates
the tar
of my charred childhood.
Your heart
is a beating dollop of gold
Always changing, always growing, always sculpting
itself
To mimic the spirit that it so beautifully belongs to.
I only wish to caress your love
To protect it in my arms
and to never let it go
For should I lose
the grace that is your heart
I will fall,
And I will crumble
Just as marble
Under the sculptor.
But I am happy, and I am warm
knowing that I could hold you
for a thousand years
and never notice that a second had passed
Because your radiance
And your shine
Would engulf my every sense
And take my breath away.
I am happy, and you are the reason why