Comfort

comfort. It’s in the core of your middle, dark and sunny and bright.

You feel it rumbling into a soft quake when that person you live for, and whom lives for you, makes you giggle uncontrollably

And they think your laughter is the best kind of music, best sound ever heard.

Comfort, when you lean on their shoulder

It feels sturdy, it feels like a great embrace even though just a part of you connects to their bone connected to soft neck,

The neck you caress like an addiction, an addiction that creates soft eyes and deep welling slumbers in their easy, limber embrace.

Simple, yet so absolutely

An Absolute comfort on a trembling face, whose words sinking from their heart tumbles into your mouth

A kiss that feels better than heaven

A kiss that feels like dreams wrapped in cloudy, soft, wispy (all the seasons wrapped up in one soft coat that they can hold you in)

Like your middle that has always been scorned, ripped apart

Your guts rearranged to suit other’s discerning tastes, your middle only soaked in shadowy light from cracked horrors and tearing traumas that left your middle cut off from your heart and life blood

Is finally dipped in lavender and lemon soaked peace,

A comfort that dips you into dreamy milky eyes,

A satisfying celestial cream that soaked through your very bones, making you realize you were always whole

They only showed it to you with their

Sweet, sweet mirror

Crafted with precision,

And love.