Chace Walsh Kabatoff
Love, Gold, Warmth, Tear, High, Low
Love, Gold, Warmth, Tear, High, Low
And maybe it still does.
I hadn’t heard that word in such a long time.
I can feel a tear, waving in and out, high tides.
The warmth of it rushes to me and fills this emptiness.
The big space inside your chest.
Filled, liquid gold flows through your veins and seeps into your heart,
warmed by that flame.
Every second that passes, a fresh pulse.
It used to do wonders for me;
that word love.