POEM – WHAT MATTERS
Nothing really matters anymore.
Especially when the spiders web weaves her gold thread over the corners of the gray door.
The rays of sunshine crave you, needing you just that little bit more.
But hinges are too rusty to swing easily like before.
Tempting to kick it down and jump out to explore.
Just to feel your burning heat under your feet on the hot floor.
Leaving the warm sensation to rise into your core.
To take a left then do a circle where it counts and make you roar.
Exhale each breath as though you’ve found heaven giving instant life like a spore.
Unless the outside can come in for that adore.
To break through the gold thread to my love despite the potential war.
Then nothing matters but a rusty old hatch needing restore.
Sadly there always need to be more than just opening the door.
💋 Sarah Martin