“Maybe, if I’m lucky, you’ll know
my heart still calls for yours.”
I need fire. The moon. Stars. I need to feel the night and the crisp air against my skin. I need to release my darkest thoughts. Let them fly away like ash risen from still-glowing embers, like wood smoke drifting into oblivion.
Maybe, if I’m lucky, you’ll hear them. You’ll know I’m still here. And that my heart still calls for yours.
© Sarah Doughty
My heart will
always be yours.