Aviation Mémoires: The Boy Who Planted a Garden

If I am the book then you are the pages, that fill my dreams at night. From the dark folded chapters of my heart, your voice ushers in thundering light. With words so carefully chosen, you pierce them into my skin. Tattooing mémoires underneath rib cages, the ink stains bleeding within. They water the garden between two lungs, from the seeds you’ve planted in my core. As I witness them blossom into songs, that have never been sung before.

Feeling_My_Red_Heart_by_hellobaby

So take a deep breath and close your eyes, I’ll sing you the newest tune. A burning anthem to make our pledge, as our hearts beat under the same moon. For some make love and some make do, but we are of a different breed. For my darling you and I make poetry, in the most intimate and sacrificial of deeds.

To read the previous chapters: Ep I, Ep II, Ep III

Photo Credit: Hellobaby

19 thoughts on “Aviation Mémoires: The Boy Who Planted a Garden

  1. now that is a great way to wake up to the world…an inspired piece for sure…an intimate and sacrificial deed indeed…glad to see the words are still seeking release and flowing from your fingertips…

      • i like to think of them as rescue words…and like my rescue pets they are often the most loving and appreciative kind…i’m glad they found a forever home… 🙂

        • When words, people or animals are lost… nothing else matters but home and safety. “Rescue words,” that is such a beautiful way to put it. Your mind intrigues me and I look forward to what unleashes from your pen this year.

          • yeh sometimes my mind intrigues me too…ha ha…i can thank you for the inspiration to post and i’m sure my pen will get up to something over the coming months…i’m also looking forward to the stories which your mind will produce this year as well…i’ll be posting something at least once a week, maybe more if the mood prevails…

    • Stay tuned for the next episode. 😉 … been hard to write with stupid Amazon losing my computer tray. And with everyone getting sick, my body is back to fighting mode. This sucks. Don’t let Barbie get you sick!

  2. I’m intrigued! 😉 A poetry lover – sounds delightful! Could possibly be right out of an Emily or Charlotte Bronté novel – somewhere from that time! I’ll have to find one quick! 😯

And the wind whispers...

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