Golden strands still wafting
slowly down from the rafters
that I held you pressed
against whilst pushing
passion into minutes, maybe
time enough to see her
the goddess,
releasing her mind
embracing the sky
rhythm stretching fabric
making minutes into hours
upon
hours in which I've watched
as she grew , like the tide
I know I've seen
time decide
in the past,
the present,
and now in her eyes
the horrible knowledge
lingers the ever doubtful
promise of lies
she sees now that I
was destined to be
the one I've left behind.