Your efforts are a comfort,
But I must take care not to
Wind myself up in them, not again.
No more making nooses from the tangled web of promises.
No more lassos of hope,
For they cannot catch the wind.
And even if they could,
Wouldn't that destroy the very purpose of the breeze?
To halt movement,
To ensnare freedom itself
To trap you in love
I couldn't.

Now is the time for observing from a distance
For putting in my twenty-five cents
To the coin operated viewer
And walking away when the time runs out.
No more waiting,
No more wishing on stars,
Time to walk down the boardwalk,
And see what's really in front of me.