Our Own Heaven
Kisses stolen.
All the time in the world
isn't enough.
Fingertips brush against bricks.
My silent smile
fills the blanks.
The sun blinds me for a moment.
For just a moment,
theres an almost promise
of change on the wind.
Palms pressed together,
eyes looking up, toward forever.
We've never thought of looking back.
Soaring,
stealing kisses on angel wings,
we fly.
All the time in the world,
in the making of this,
our own heaven.
Copyright © Tess Stoops | Year Posted 2012
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