18 September 2010

A 10.0 on the Richter Scale
















it's in the way
i can curl up
i n y o u,
like an old familiar story.

it's the way
you warm me
like a cup of steaming
tea,
enveloped by
chilled fingers.

it's the way
you call to me,
i the navigator
with a compass
that points
home.

it's the way
you find me
when i am lost,
tugging gently
at the laces of my
shoes to bring my
feet back down.

it's the way
i love you
when you steal my words
and steal my breath,
that i know that

no matter what the world brings
and no matter what the world steals
and no matter what the world is,

things,

you,

i,

us,

are going
to be

okay.

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