Sunday Nights. Poem by nina ...

theres thoughts i have every sunday night

while my room fills with the sounds of the wind.

theres nothing here but me and the sweet whispers

and i have everything i need except the sun.

i could get lost in this close conversation but

theres no need to think because my thoughts have already created a flood.

my heart races while i breath slow and

the whispers find their way to my heart.

you remain a thought on a cool sunday night while

the whispers of the wind slowly make you disappear.

calm conversation dries up my mind causing it

to go from a raging sea to a leaf crumbling to nothing.

i dont get lost because i wont feel this rage or hear this leaf instead

i will listen to the wind on this cool sunday night like

there is nothing better to hear and my heart couldnt love anything more.