The Summer Of Your Arms Poem by Olimpia Sarb

I need to curl up in your arms,
Hush, do not say anything,
I just know this,
My best is in your arms' warm season.
I need to stay quietly
Near the fire of your heart,
And nothing to hurt me, not even the ephemeral.

I need to look up to you, beseeching.
Oh, if only you could just look down at me, instead,
While arriving from your long journey of thought
To acknoledge my presence.

I need to feel how you crumble me
As if I were a piece of warm bread.
Oceans would all be heard breezing in me then,
They all would write soft love poems on my skin
With shells that endlessly whisper.

If you touched my neck with your lips,
I'd be half of the burning sun,
Half of the freezing moon,
The astonishing summer of your arms would rejuvenate
The story of my blood.

Let me curl up in your arms
For a thousand days, for a thousand years.
Thus much.