A Letter to Her By Reuben Chavira

As I lay here, listening to you sleep, you’re the last thought of the day, that my heart wants to keep. Minutes into hours, the river runs deep, the only thing that is constant, is the way my heart beats. The way my heart feels, the way art reveals… the way my soul seeps, the way your touch heals.
As I lay here, listening to you sleep, I have not to fear, though this mountain is steep. And although we might fall, down off of this peak, the way you enthrall, makes mighty the meek. If we find what we seek, then search through my soul… plant there your dreams, since we reap what we sow.
As I lay here, listening to you sleep, I wish you were near, to the depths of my deep. The depths of your sleep, it does not compare… I wish I could share, how deeply I care. But words don’t suffice, and although they sound nice, they can’t hold your hand, words just don’t understand. These words were not planned, they may not make sense, but these words here demand, their own existence. We don’t exist on our own, we’re not grown disconnected… our beauty is shown, when our light is reflected.
As I lay here, listening to you sleep, it sounds like perfection, my heart’s yours to keep. And as my pulse leaps, to the sound of your exhale, the depths of my deep, are slowly unveiled. And although some have failed, to sail the seas, I still close my eyes, and breathe in the breeze.
As I lay here, with my emotions set free, they help me to see, your affect upon me. We connect without trying, so I speak without lying… I feel like I’m flying, while these paint drops are drying. And if ever you’re crying, if the pain cuts too deep, then go right to sleep, and let these words weep.
Because these words they have power, and as the minutes turn to hours, it inspires my heart beat… as I listen to you sleep.
Sincerely yours.

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