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
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 3:49 PM UTC
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
