wishful promises

the dust settles between words
no longer hiding
succumbing to the beauty
that lies between
thoughts and whispers
that echo with brushes
delicate as butterfly wings

don't be afraid
there is no harm here
in the palm of my open hands
gathering you will be sublime
delicate fingers will not remove
the fragrant dust
of your thoughts

they will be gathered
flowers in my vase
of tranquility
held fast in each breath
and beat of heart
never allowed to fade
or wither in my care