There's only so much time.
Do you want the long version
or a synopsis? Thought so.
Ok, so... The man says, I love you.
There's a gentle pause, then a soft voice
answers, Thank you for saying so.
It's not a thank you thing, he says.
But for her, in that moment, it is.
Thank you for saying you love me,
she thinks afterward, for I am unable.
She spins 'round and 'round,
shadow encircling her feet.
Noon, you say. High time.
Reruns, or a higher rung
on the spiral, forever swirling
upward. Sadness wells:
One minute Earth flows,
a river; the next She sets up,
concrete and irrefutable.
Soul hovers, mute, unable
to jump the gap and enter
feet first, breeching blue.
YOU ARE READING
Express, baggage and all...
PoetryObjects in the mirror are closer than they appear... Just when you think you've put something behind you for good, you look back and find it trails you like your very own comet's tail, lighting a path through the dark. Reading through these pages...
