Christmas slow
Christmas what
words
prolific poetry
but what about the story dragged out?
Who is around me this Christmas
little Christmas.
Don't rush away,
where I am now.
What are you pregnant with she asked?
It's Christmas,
and what comes next?
Not just five meanings for love,
- seems like a lot
but it's not -
as many as my moments.
A word I know
every instant
use all the time
and always feel new to,
define it for me again.
I'm sick of talking I want to be
I'm sick of writing I want to do
I'm sick of loving I want to love
I'm not sick of loving,
I love it,
whatever it means.
The natural sparkles in the snow
makes our hearts all a glitter.
Welcome Christmas tingles,
we're glad you're here,
even when you're bitter.
No comments:
Post a Comment