
What could be worth capturing,
If not the peccant access to roam
That gilded wilderness
Of your sun-flecked skin?
Lush mountains and valleys
My adrift soul aches to trek,
Entwining with the warm terrain,
But I could never stay.
Treacherous paths, sloping hills.
Coves of misty celadon.
Gently winding switchbacks
Ascend toward stunning views.
What price of admission
Could be so unjust
As to bar the adventure
Of hugging my lonely tongue to yours?
About the Creator
Veronica Wren
Trauma sucks, recovery shouldn't.
Displaced survivor. Ex-cop turned activist researcher. Investigating abusive systems harming our health.
Forever wishing I could recover my old Vocal + account.
Hide and speak media: hideandspeakmedia.com
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.