Poetry (words)

Tapestries

I am all eyes and you are all wonder. I am of caution, but not of your making. This landscape of my heart, its trenches and scars in need of repair, jaded not dead.

You are still waters a tapestry of depth, not obvious, not incessant. Each strand interwoven, each vein a path to your soul.

You are shelter from the heat, like the coolest chapel walls, the light on the horizon when I am surrounded by the darkest skies.

I am approaching thresholds and you meet me halfway. You’re the stranger I struggled to see, but as you stand in the doorway I can see nothing else

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