We ought to find the one who makes it all worthwhile.
What value is there in celebrating one's successes alone, I wonder.
I often find myself full of dread and trepidation that something great will happen to me in the absence of that someone.
We ought to find the one without whom nothing will be worthwhile.
“A memoir; for you were set apart.”
As I would wait at eleven,
At that moon ere the twelfth,
Would you be there? By the cleft?
Would I still see you, in even;
By the lights across?
Even so; and not,
Flusters in vain,
but firn; it blots not
unsieved trails by the rain.
Beseeched to cease upon this fixation,
“’Twas but a distant temperament.”
But I’d do it all over again.
I cross this bridge at night
on my way to work
And there's another one
across the water -- identical
And I always see a car
in the same spot as mine
diligently matching my pace
And there's a glint on his car
as if we both just saw each other
both made aware of the fact
that there is an imposter
on the other side
And I wonder who it is
if that is me in a different life
making better choices
he'd much rather be
The white fog creeps from the cold sea over the city,
Over the pale grey tumbled towers,--
And settles among the roofs, the pale grey walls.
Along damp sinuous streets it crawls,
Curls like a dream among the motionless trees
And seems to freeze.
The fog slips ghostlike into a thousand rooms,
Whirls over sleeping faces,
Spins in an atomy dance round misty street lamps;
And blows in cloudy waves over open spaces . . .
And one from his high window, looking down,
Peers at the cloud-white town,
And thinks its island towers are like a dream . . .
It seems an enormous sleeper, within whose brain
Laborious shadows revolve and break and gleam.
The innocence of that aubade prevailed
When all concept of time unravelled
And the world spins all around your
Locked together lambs
In that temporary state
Where the last of the red leaves
Glow tenderly on cyan palms
We were caught and clasped forever
As pure as a first true love
That you would run forever for
When any doubts and any demons
Were cast away in the happy dance of limbs
When nothing else or no one else were ever painted
Quite like we were
Satin Bodies found each other
Fingertips brushing against open lips
The soundtrack of our lives
Been written as the time elapsed
We held each other by the sea, by the rail lines
And by the wishes of the winding river
In those moments of divinity
When two souls wrap themselves around each other
We see the best of us reflected
Then truly accepted
A melted sum of all our moving parts
A love story
The memories of hurt and heroism
Of places where you used to hide
Of all those times a footstep found its waters
Every moment that led to that connection
Was replayed and tenderly recited
As if all our lives were only breathless foreplay
For that everlasting embrace
When the ribbon could never be untangled
And even when the last leaves fall
And the figurine just falls from view
That state of being, that completeness
Will stay a part of us forever