where did he go

[stopwispering]

Resting gently,
against dirty linen cloth,
I cuped your life in my hand.
Such astonishment I felt,
At such a wonderous discovery.
A cage made of the thickest steal,
Could not contain such a roust.
Providing to the nightly soundtrack,
A gentle, pulsating rythem,
Tuned to the pattern of your soft wispers,
And my shallow breaths,
An accidental masterpiece,
A symphany of soft notes.
I held in my hand,
What was thought beyond reach,
Locked behind flesh,
The key to your exsistence.
Ever so careful I was,
With such a precious idol,
Warm, and alive,
You are its keeper,
Holding it to yourself,
With no visible key,
Untill sleep.