If I were to say, and you were to listen
when sun would rise, and dew would glisten
off palest of hues in skin so ripe
can I be your one and only blood type?
From your lips, what answer would fall?
Would you calm my fears, erase them all?
Would I not wonder why, you are not always here?
Would I know your heart, though you are not near?
Only gossamer threads to entangle my thoughts
remain where we laid on the grass that caught... Read More