I wonder if you think of me now, as I do, if the lights and laughter of home makes you long for our shadows. You are home, and I am far away from mine, I can hear crickets outside my window and long for your tenderness as the room darkens and I drift in and in between sleep. The silence sits heavy on my shoulders and all I can hear is your voice. Everything, even the silence, reminds me of you. I wish you were here, I wish you would sing to me. It's evening now, a firefly lands on my lap. I want to whisper my sadness to it and I hope it will carry my love to you as it flies away.
Think of me, please. Think of me. I long to be thought of.
YOU ARE READING
Arcadia
PoetrySpilled thoughts, letters from no one, stories of another time, another place. - || H.R. : #50 in Poetry ||
