Unsettled water; soot-black heart made of onyx.
January- her atmosphere
is thick with earthly ora.
she tastes of yellow tulips
in spring bloom.
wrapped in a sun dress-
a glimmer of hope
for a world sunless.
if ideals were real,
she would fit sufficiently
into the cookie shape
my mind has baked
for the pleasure of my senses.
woven from minds in the stars,
her energy is of old rooted oaks.
I, too, an oak like her,
felt like we have been through
our thousand life times together.
Two battle hardened souls
exchanging thick energy
over crab cakes and white wine.
i was who i was meant to be
in those moments- understood.
however precise her smile
or soft her voice,
these tangible mystiques fall short.
like words in mid description,
the valiant effort of any explanation
fails to capture her essence.
this is my love called January.
She, named June,
came to me upon the laughter
secretly found among the sadness of wind.
her ora- light and malleable.
as if skimming the top of a bowl of soup
just for the broth,
her soul resembles young energy.
concerned with foundational concepts
of trust, loyalty; a true friend.
what I have lacked in my life
is this very foundation.
love, hitherto, has been dissolved
because no one held it down like June.
Like the newborn summer sun,
whose resolve for building an atmosphere
which the rest of the summer can grow from,
she was committed to me.
she is my best friend.
someone with which love
can rest assuredly upon.
we have weathered storms,
braved our Selves,
and came through the time machine together.
not afraid to say she is wrong;
to look inside herself and rearrange
the broken glass into a mirror.
June, oh June, the love you bring
is tinged with the essential things.
the heart-
an enigmatic road in the forest of your mind.
You learn much of yourself along the way.
However, it is a road paved with glass,
that wear down the soles of your shoes, with a smile.
Which one- January or June, shall I come to find I need more?
