day 63

Ode to the keeper of my soul:

We sit on lawn chairs on city side walks
Clouds scaring away the sunshine
They form shapes that I've never thought of.

I'm starting to believe that the sky isn't wide enough for our dreams.

We hold them with pot holder hands

They are freshly brewed 

straight from our own ambitions.

I won't promise to build my dreams around you,

but to build my dreams with you.

You are honey comb home to seeking adventurers

My soul is safe in your thoughts

I am carrying the troubles of womanhood in small tote bag backpacks

These minuscule problems are just back blemishes

Birth marks that I will carry with you forever

we will get through them pinky intertwined with pinky

These moments are too sacred to hold with empty palms