A touch from unseen hands,
crawling up my spine, cold and framilure.
My reason for standing still.
Years spent sitting on this grassy knole,
Lost in this distant touch.
Moving over and under.
Across skin, under and across the mind.
falling fast into the comfort provided.
Eyes look out, the world spinning.
Changing.
Leaving me as I am left.
I am do not mourn it.
I have no room to mourn,
There is only you,
my comfort, and joy.
My faded link to innocence.
I hold on with both hands.
It's all thats left of who she was.
"What happened to my girl"
She died with you.
I never said I was sorry.
You're words haunt me,
like the taste of you lips.
But I still here your voice,
I remember your scent.
And I take what's left.
I rise from the grass,
I move to the rushing world.
So long gone.
And for a moment,
the stillness of my soul,
makes a stillness.
Sort of like when A deer crosses the road in teh city.
It gives pause, reminds one of the world.
A graceful spirit,
bound by earthly body.
With my parade of handless touches.
My guildence to purity.
