These arms of mine lay at my side they reach out unafraid, yet when they’re raised to draw you in, they’re passively delayed.
My fingers trace the silhouette that mirrors you in frame, their cooperation wildly, yet leisurely so tame.
Reach out.
These arms of mine they won’t abide, they yearn to touch, subside.
Imagine sweeping up the wind in the palm of your hand and grasping on to every pearl of sand at your command.
Unsleep yourself.
mahani 