Patience’ breath
in waves and rhythms
mists across the mirror,
blurs eyes returned,
lightest blue,
so cold, so still,
upon a boy who grew and grew,
into a wire frame, a cage,
it’s warmth like
almost loving you.
How it comes and goes
away again,
pillowing in tides across the glass.
Reflected
again,
a warmth like almost loving you.
Jun 20, 2010
Jun 20, 2010 at 9:00 PM UTC
Patience’ breath
in waves and rhythms
mists across the mirror,
blurs eyes returned,
lightest blue,
so cold, so still,
upon a boy who grew and grew,
into a wire frame, a cage,
it’s warmth like
almost loving you.
How it comes and goes
away again,
pillowing in tides across the glass.
Reflected
again,
a warmth like almost loving you.
There are many reasons why I can not and should not delve again into old relationships that I neither maintained nor handled well, but they provide fuel for these fires I call poems.