Friday, November 8, 2013

revision is a gift

walking through the scratching leaves, aching pines,
chilled bones lamely whisper to me that you're sad.
stepping farther i turn to face you, catching a glance.
your eyes capture me, pull me madly into a trance.

your shadow, a half-figure amid the dark pines.
i can't forget the gentle flicker of your moon eyes.
when they close they become milky crescents --
the darker side: charcoaled weariness below the lids.

i was mistaken to believe it was true with you.
we must revise the things in our lives that we
care about the most -- the things we can't shake.
when not held with care, the glass is bound to break.

softly to me you whisper what i thought you were.
but now i look to the moon, i can never be sure.
someday you'll leave. just like that you'll fade away,
crunching the leaves, stirring the wind with every step



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