Spring

I have butterflies in my stomach; maybe it’s just the season.

My favorite season where I want you to:

Sing to me, my love.

Of the silent voices in your head.

Of the masquerade chants in your head

Of the loud whispers of your heart.

Sing to me, my love.

Chants of solace

Melodies of comfort

Eulogies of peace.

Sing to me, my love.

Of how hard it gets.

Of how scared you get

Of how marred you’ve become.

Spring is our season.

That’s when we first met.

On a sunny day,

Under the Ivory tree.

Remember me, always in our season.

Because I love you so much!