I’m not at all profound, I’m just in love. Scattered maybe, but I think I’m worthy of you, who I see in my dreams each night rising in the dark and shining in the light. Your ray of silver moon upon my stairs.
How did I catch this glimpse to realize I’d never again crawl beyond your eyes, to a place where you are not before the opening and closing of my door, to that room with silver moon upon my stairs?
Could any other air I breathe be this compelling that I should always want your kiss to lay upon my lips their sweet perfume? The threads of my heart you weave on your loom as you sew your silver moon upon my stairs.
© 2017 by Tom Kraft