There is a beauty in this,
though it may be hard to see.
There is a beauty in this,
somewhere.
In some angle of light
refracted across
this shattered mirror reflection
of something that used to exists
but does no longer.
There is a beauty in this.
We laugh as we were,
smiling through a fog
of uncertainty.
The company is adequate,
the type where silence is
comfortable instead of awkward.
Perhaps we even cry, when warranted.
These moments of passion that blend
the colors and burst through
the frame. All else appears
to fade, if only you'd look
close enough. And I would not
mind a narrowing of the vision.
The bigger picture has
dulled in color and left me
numb to the detail. That is what this is,
a step closer toward the mirror, a look
closer at the brushstroke;
there is a beauty in this
if only you'd look close enough.