To Be Loved

To Be Loved

It’s the warmth under
Wooden floorboards,
The crescent waning moon.
The comfort of a loved one,
Under a Sunday afternoon.

It’s the beaming bright
Sun, crawling crevices
To fill the dark corners.
Breathless breaking waves
Swallowing small imperfections.

It’s someone waiting for you,
Waiting for the tears,
Calling for your heart,
Seeing that your eyes darken,
Sensing your heart has slowed.

It’s knowing the ones who came before you
Move through your veins,
Tunnel under mountains
Just to bless your heartfelt wishes.
They say you’re never alone,
Because love
Is something that spreads.

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