beneath our tree
where my lungs come back to me
for it is there
among borrowed ears
the cadence of you,
of i
falls freely
beneath blooming arms, those towering magic wands
those leaves, an artistic blend of hues
lent by the color of our words
birthed from our woes, our joys
now drip dropping in tiny doses
a repertoire of moments
gifts caressed from our swollen lips
beneath this our found sanctum
a secret place, a perfect hiding spot
where treasured scribing
and whispers in the wind
hold a love affair in soft reverie
infused within the veins of its hollow
beyond distances they traveled
weathered testaments of time
reaching for the sun
how they glow
how it flows
upwards
outwards
reflecting within
beneath our tree
where my lungs come back to me
Listen to me read Sanctum
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