As One

So it has begun
Quiet dances of soft white light calls out
Beckons the dark from beneath still beds.

Laughter amid the chilled vapors of cold winter air,
Footsteps seemingly etched into tomorrow,
Leading home

Today is defined by the warmth hidden beneath blanketed hands. 
By that silent security of pupils focusing in from across the room. 

Surrender to the chastity of change, the ambiguous lingering kiss of last night’s chilled goodbye.

Take hold of knitted promises that lead far away from here, and rest.




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