The Valley

 

Your pen is a valley,
writing love letters from caves
and tattooing messages on the walls of my chest.

Letters wrap to words and bleed sentences
into pieces of a starved soul that pulsates
whispers
and breaks away into the sunset.

I search for you in rivers.
Wading deep into the furthest parts,
bated breath,
reaching for shadows
that glimmer off into the distance.

You are the light that doesn’t speak.
That pain that steals my sleep.
You are the moon inside my walls.
My last step,
my final fall.

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