I enter the bedroom, so exhausted from living
and see you lying there, ebony strands on ivory,
your comforter-encased body clinched around my pillow.
If only I could tell you the haunts that keep me from you.
I tremble as I sit upon a corner of the bed, fear crawls in,
leers back and forth between us.
I beg it to leave, to not take the love we share,
to allow you the innocence of one unaffected
by the struggles of a deranged mind.
You stir; your eyes barely open and blink
as you move your head to rest upon my knee.
You inhale and exhale, sighing; I smell of sea salt and fish.
Tired from a day spent worn from demons,
I gently caress your hair. Your eyes close
and fear trembles upon your lips.
Sighing deeply, I tell you all is fine.
You whisper, I know…
but I hear the doubt.
A Whispered Wind 