Alcatraz
In the quiet corners of her whispered fears,
she carries a heart wrapped in shadows,
trembling like the leaves outside,
each gust a reminder of the storm within.
Her laughter dances just out of reach,
a melody sweet yet haunting,
where the notes are soft,
and her silences stretch like evening light,
the sun retreating behind tall walls.
She hides behind a veil of daydreams,
fragile confidence like petals unbloomed,
and when I mirror her gaze,
I wonder if she sees the safe space I cast,
a harbor in the tumult of her thoughts.
But her skin, it shivers with secrets,
the gentle curve of what she longs to share,
her shadows waltzing with the light,
each flicker a story untold,
each sigh a gasp for freedom.
I reach for her in the spaces between,
where unspoken wishes linger,
offering comfort in the softest tones,
letting my silence echo her own.
Yet still, she stands at the edge,
watching the world unfold,
a timid artist too afraid of the canvas,
fearful that the colors of her truth
might spill and blur and run away.
So I wait, a patient breeze,
for the day she dares to unfurl,
to let her heart breathe in the open air,
to find in me the courage
to weave our souls like the threads of dawn.
For love is not just the overt, bold claim,
but the tender embrace of vulnerability,
and in her quiet strength,
I see the beauty of every inch she's yet to trust.
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