If I could be the whispers on the breeze that carry through your open window I would converse with your soul. I would gently caress the edges that are scarred by life’s, knife. With my fingers I would smooth the ridges, with my kisses I would sooth the open wounds. With my thoughts I would fill the great voids and with my love I would cover you in a protective layer and with my passion I would ignite fires deep inside yourself with ever lasting kindle that would simmer softly for all your days upon the earth.
Karen Hayward © 2016