My unrest is steeped in humility.
Fear, though tamed,
still begs for a trace of attention.

I loved you
until the final heartbeat;
I saw a tomorrow that would anoint
the future.

You returned my dream,
untouched, unmarked by use.
A crumpled memory preludes
reality.

A sold tomorrow echoes the pride
so difficult to confront.
Reality is the mistake—
on its knees
I lay my fear.

Perhaps tenderness
will make dawn more bearable?
Perhaps truth
will break free from longing’s reign?
I don’t want to be a life
that arrived too late for its own beginning.

The body clings tightly
to the past.