☁️ Cloudship
a poem for the kind of love that floats
I don’t want a ship that sails the sea,
with anchors, maps, or rules for me.
I want a cloudship — soft and slow,
where love just drifts and learns to grow.
No compass needed, no rush to land,
just two soft hearts and holding hands.
You bring the calm, I’ll bring the spark,
we’ll laugh like kids in the quiet dark.
We’ll sip warm tea above the trees,
speak in whispers, move with ease.
You’ll learn my storms, I’ll know your skies,
and kiss your thoughts when they try to hide.
Some days we’ll float, some days we’ll fall,
but we’ll never force it — that’s not us at all.
We’ll fix the sails with daisy twine,
and write “I missed you” between the lines.
No destination, no final page,
just soft adventures, stage by stage.
And when we land, if ever we do —
I’ll still be floating, right next to you.
– pumpkin girl ☁️
(built for cloudships, not warships)