peel back the layers when you shared the process to the end result, you let me in and i mistook the meaning of a subtle sign that you let me in to a sacred space, seeing what makes you tick. a subtle hand holding but my dizzy head was lost in lust. what else could…

the pitter-patter of droplets upon my windowpane tap relentlessly blowing left & right remind me of the storm we once created now settled deep into my mind oh, to get swept up in your storm the intensity of your words the passion brewing & spilling over the constant wind whipping & striking before the longest…

What about when the heart knocks back? Bloom: A Poem — Thistle Thoughts

your hands, your kiss I have been held and kissed before but nothing like this what is it about your hands, your kiss that makes me believe that nothing compares to this I could see into others’ eyes I could hold someone else’s hands but I don’t feel their soul like you feel mine

irritating tears-      a hardening before a sense of      belonging breaking down waves of      rebellion a window to the heart & soul of: trying, sorting, feeling, fighting,      howling unchartered spaces

Pick up a needle, a piece of thread, slowly push it through the eye of the needle Tie a knot to ensure we know where to stop push and pull through the fabric and tug at its ends In & out, and around again stitch after stitch just enough to tie us together just enough…