#25

It was a cold, windy, November night when I watched my
demons fly away and my
soul grow roots in the home of another, yet feel
gutsy enough to let the petals go
even though it is not mating sea on.
The night is cold buy your arms and your lips are warm and
all I can think about is how nice it would be to have you sleep
with me,
not that weird way but
the way where I put my head on your chest and fall asleep
to the metronome of your steadily beating drum.
I sick of living in the shadows of my past and
leaving out all the rest,
of making enemies with uncertainty and
friends with animosity.
Raise the stakes or fold,
I go all in.