Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
—He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven, William Butler Yeats
She knows how much I’ve fallen for her.
And by giving her my heart in such a way, she’s sharing the burden. The last thing she wants to do is hurt me, and she thinks herself selfish for wanting to be held just so. But I know what I’m getting into. I know the risks.
There’s no point in denying ourselves the joy of what we have now. To be lying next to each other when we talk into the early hours of the day, bodies pressed against one another while the morning light washes over us, is worth any chance at being hurt. We can deal with the inevitable later.
So she treads softly, on me and my heart.
And rests her head on my chest when I hold her.
I’m really glad to hear you have found such happiness. :)
I’m so happy to read you’ve found someone who adores the intricate person you are Jeff. There’s such a palpable sense of joy in your words. I’m looking forward to watching (reading about) this relationship evolve through the sort of dedication and effection you’re capable of.
There’s no doubt that she must be incredibly special if you’ve chosen to carry her in your heart and include her in your life.
all the best,
L.
Thank you both.
You make me want to believe in romance.
You don’t believe in romance? I find romance is something that drives me; I can’t imagine my life without such an idea.