Yvning

We had strange names for one another; Blue skies like silk embedded behind stars. I remember pulling my wind through stranded clouds, looking for that one thought that mattered. That feeling of bliss. Solitary in a network of branches, see recollections of sunlight once wished upon. Between oaken stems the spider wove your mind, a webbed constellation which once held me up, supported me; Whispered to me in velvet shades of the delicate gems drenched in liquid white, all reflections of my true self. Then the strings of your violin tongue snared the mists of the fae spirits. Judged harshly for its foolishness the butterfly sang to the spider,

We had strange names for one another; Blue skies like silk embedded behind stars. I remember pulling my wind through stranded clouds, looking for that one thought that mattered. That feeling of bliss. Solitary in a network of branches, see recollections of sunlight once wished upon. Between oaken stems the spider wove your mind, a webbed constellation which once held me up, supported me; Whispered to me in velvet shades of the delicate gems drenched in liquid white, all reflections of my true self. Then the strings of your violin tongue snared the mists of the fae spirits. Judged harshly for its foolishness the butterfly sang to the spider,