Imagine a blanket.
Every stitch, knot, and loop a moment in time -
your moment in time.
Woven in on one another,
creating an intricate map of your evenings.
I’d like to tread across the warmth of this blanket,
explore your stories -
Flying hand in your hand,
with the humblest of wings.
Leave no spot untouched by memories sprinkled in glee
Over the expanse of you, drunk on your dew.
Together, let’s create a mosaic of moments.
A collage of the seconds, the minutes, that have made our life.
I lay open my parchments,
my every nerve with stories inscribed.
It’s 15 years too late,
but read me through dear mine -
the time has finally arrived.
Author’s note: This is not a fully original piece. I read a poem online a couple days before with the same context, and I had merely modified it to form a different message here. I’m unable to find the original piece though, but will attach it here as and when I do.
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