Common ground

You have to be some kind of presence these days to invade the space I’ve built within. Maybe you’re September air where the breeze finally breaks through from your window to where you rest with your loves. A book you don’t want to read too fast but savior with your black coffee in bed. The morning sun turns to rain allowing you to feel at ease with your level of productivity, this slow paced sweet space now comes with sound. You’d have to be some kind of presence to involve yourself with me here. My best friend with the golden mind who is always kind and never leaves me misunderstood. She knows best to let me rest. And when I’m awake she knows and she lets me be free to be as weird of me I only know to be. She would never change me.