In a Love Story

In a Love Story

She makes me feel

like I’m breathing

underwater,

a picture of a dove

draping, 

not a strangers wall.

I live in her

a Sunflower;

silhouette of smoke

in her backyard garden,

grey.

Pressing against 

the soft skin

of an open dream,

she makes every drop of rain

bearable.

In a not-so-bearable

sort of way.

And I catch my breath

again;

catching my breath.

Her hand holds mine,

and everything I have left.

I gave it to her

with sand and salt

and love.

She smelled my hair,

and gave me a plum.