escapril

a happy place: gaelic

here the trees speak Gaelic
whispering sweet nothings in my ear
gossipy and wise they may be

i sip my coffee
and listen to them
with limbs limp and lazy

they sing a song of ancient origins
that echoes throughout the valley
Orpheus may be calling
with desperate plucks of his lyre off in his cave

but here warmth blooms
lovely like a blood stain
passing through every inch
of my being

the sweet chill of the wind
counteracts it
creating a chemical cancellation

a calming neutrality
that i mellow in
for entire afternoons on end

with your laugh ringing in my head
and your hand gripping my hand
and you
tu
completely safe beside me

how could such a place ever exist?

a/n: i was at a loss for this one. a happy place?? i don't know her