Come back to me,
before we fell apart on opposite sides of the same silence;
crowd the room with conversation
and drape a blanket of dreams over tomorrow in a show of strength
not in a test of patience.
Talk to me under the mute moon;
label it left and right
not right and wrong;
safe harbour your troubles on my chest
while the night calms
another navigated storm.
© D. Archer. September 2012