in comes the moon.

rumbles the earth

loosens our grip and settle the walls.

as we await the wave that will clean us of this place

one can only feel foolish,

to put himself in a spot of such tremendous vulnerability

and for what? 

beauty.

draw parallels and you will know what it takes to fall in love.

oh ye who fear the praise of beauty.

what you fear, is YOUR perception. 

not mine. 

i know my love, if i know you.

so, to run to the hills? or to stand trembling with the ground, as in a dream?

there is a chance at freedom, i think. 

feathers may sprout from our shoulder blades,

but we are not meant for flight, in this life.

stems envy the flower.