Sometimes the flowers bloom in winter.
And never enough, is never quite enough.
I pull down the moon, and you beg for the stars.
As the diamond ocean laps at our feet.
To dig into our world for precious stones;
is the least I can do.
Perfect. Like thoughts of mother earth.
Your hand in mine for eternity.
Your tears are butterflies, set free on the wind.
Dancing beauty, little Chinese fans that flicker in the sunlight.
You are restless, you are wild.
Your pressure of commotion shakes the world into crimson.
Fervent reds, the dye of those who dream while wakened.
As the darkness flinches and the thunder clouds roll into nothing.
Your remarks on this day, and the marbled mayhem of your kingdom.
Slips into my heart.
Your words, soft on my cheeks like the happiness of my youth.
You are that Christmas present under the tree.
You are the tricycle I conquered.
The perfection of you never wavers. Never fades.
And never rest.
Always wanting more.