What is left of the window smudge
when the lips that yearn kiss against
a bitter reflection of what isn't real?

It's a solemn wish towards that hope,
for one faithless day the eyes will play,
play trickery into the hearts of one crowd
but pierce but one heart in an earnest gavotte.

"Will you see me today?"

"I will see you again, someday."

And there was the glimpse of what is not,
the aura of self-release into those eyes
but betrayed and hollowed, no one loves more.

The copious crowd dispersed, save one soul-
Waiting effortlessly in the seconds that
none could cherish more than their own.

"You see me today."

"I saw you, someday."

© 2007