I just left your house and
counted the glowing, dotted lines
that passed by all too eagerly
The fluorescent paint
reflects the lights back to me
like the letter I passed to you
which you so hastily returned
A chipped away memory and
a winter kiss only dreamt of
finalize this draft of our
suspenseful novella
But I hear you have many of
these unfinished stories
pushed aside while you reread
the same old text
hoping that you can add to
the blank pages in the back
And while you study
those worn, yellow pages
you leave behind
a library of fortune
too late to discover
With a flick of the thumb
and a twist of the wrist
these missed adventures become
glowing embers on the asphalt
a fading memory in my rear-view mirror
Oct 12, 2012
Oct 12, 2012 at 7:26 AM UTC
I just left your house and
counted the glowing, dotted lines
that passed by all too eagerly
The fluorescent paint
reflects the lights back to me
like the letter I passed to you
which you so hastily returned
A chipped away memory and
a winter kiss only dreamt of
finalize this draft of our
suspenseful novella
But I hear you have many of
these unfinished stories
pushed aside while you reread
the same old text
hoping that you can add to
the blank pages in the back
And while you study
those worn, yellow pages
you leave behind
a library of fortune
too late to discover
With a flick of the thumb
and a twist of the wrist
these missed adventures become
glowing embers on the asphalt
a fading memory in my rear-view mirror