journey to somewhere

there are buds of lavender 
on the grass; 
we’ll open these doors and 
wet our fingers with dewdrops
blurred light, jagged peaks and
toenails, scratched with the lead 
of pencils
sandalwood incense,
your whisper in the doorway,
welcome home
it smells like burnt candles here;
like exhaustion and the morning
i’ll write you a note;
we can translate it into
the places you’ve never been 
the dreams you’ve never had
we’ll leave 
two sets of footsteps there

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in the wake of light, your words bring me more(please, do leave your fingerprints behind, so I may relish the image of our hands after you go.)