O.C. Bearheart

Love Poetry Maybe

I’m in the room above you,
I’m coming down the stairs;
I tell you that I love you
But we both know no one cares.
I found within the dressing room
The keys to chests locked up, and then
Was buried down in mother’s womb:
Sifting through sands, our past, again.
Like fingers on the spider’s web,
Like daggers in the back,
Like growth and tide of rock and ebb
And memories in a sack,
I’m coming down the stairs for you.
Your wound runs deep: I’ll mend it.
What heartbreak lies in birth anew,
What beauty prays to end it?
I wait for you beyond the veil,
Beyond the darkest, deepest night
Until the sun turns ashen pale
And we’ve all run out of light.
It’s in that final dream we’ll find
The thing that we need best:
I have a key inside my mind;
Your heartbeats hold the chest.
And when my tired eyes have seen
The end, the edge, the sunlit sands,
I’ll look upon sapphire and green:
Our gift, the promised lands.
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