Kahkasha

I keep your ivies,
decades long.

He often says that love
is uncertain,
I look away, veiled
in this burden.

We stay in a place
he dares to call home.
A red string ties
my throat to yours.

The moon, as ever,
shines in a grace
the quiet my manuscripts
could never attain.

Yet I write in awe,
in freedom and woe.
He names me lost,
You find me in a glow.

I have this tendency
to bolt,
when the nights catch
my pace,

But this cut runs deeper
than longing ever should.
And now I’m frozen
in a momentary day,

Preserved like a fortune
no one seeks to reach.
He scorches my skin,
You refuse to be seen,

So I hold the bird still
inside the hollow of my chest,
It told me to run,
now it begs me to—

P.S: Written in response to Taylor Swift's "Ivy"