Coming Home


Thinking of leaving work
and going home
used to bring smile on my face:
The sweet taste of your lips
and your loving eyes
used to meet me at the door,
mixing with the scent of the rose
I laid in your hands.

Now, as I step in, before
I close the door behind me,
I cry.

I enter a place of relief
where I can let my tears flow
missing the soft touch of your hands.

I collect what is left of me
for awakening into tomorrow,
longing for everlasting sleep
without homecomings.

In my sleep I dream of you,
your return after two more weeks,
feeling your soft hand on my face
wiping away all my tears,
counting each one of them.

You wipe my tears for another woman
that I fell in love with against my will,
love so powerful that I was frightened.

My heart is safe when you trust me
and I know I am worthy of your trust.
My soul is aching in pain of true love
in what it means not to follow one's desires.

The day you return,
thinking of leaving work
and going home
brings smile on my face.
We love each other
in everlasting sleep
in a bed full of roses,
awaiting for homecomings.


Rose by *snogirl    

Wounds of Love

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