Literature
Love
You'd think there would be something in the sound,
A reminder in the breeze, a foretelling in the sky,
A silent stir with tempest promise.
You'd think there'd be a flash,
A sudden burst, a scraping cry,
A fear newgrown beneath your skin.
You'd think there'd be a sight
Instinctive hallucination of the unaware
Clairvoyance for the mundane and troubled mind.
You'd think it. But no.
The world has no time for a single breath,
To gather sources for a miracle moment.
It will creep you seize you stab you,
Strip your skin and braid it false,
Use it to clothe your naked heart and bone.
Your blood and code welcome it.
This will fulfill t