Next to you I feel free.
When the wind blows, my eyes tear.
I lie under you for refuge,
to hide within myself so no one will see.
I am delicate in your arms,
but I am not vulnerable.
You are firm and grounded,
but my spirit soars above you.
Why must we be forced to part?
Can you not grow wings?
We’ll be quiet, and tip-toe across the sky.
I’ll bring you back in the next solitary season.
When wisps of hair fall across my face…
I need you to move them…
So I can see myself.
© copyright 2015 Denise Rafkind Photography