It’s old,
I know,
Owned by a version
Of me
That is smaller
And softer
With bigger
Eyes
For
Possibility
And
A firmer grip
On
Truth.
And she’s
Offering
Some delight
With her chin
Up,
And her shoulders
Back,
Eyes
Sneaking glimpses
Of your eyes
Of which bit
Stirs you.
I can see,
From here,
The power
In the offering,
The meaning
In the offered.
And the fall
Is sudden
When she falters,
And the blow
deep.
You don’t notice
At first
How her chin
Drops,
How her shoulders
Curl,
How she folds
Her edges
Into herself -
Gripped
And
Diminished.
And she
(And me,
Still me)
We
Miss
Your invitation.
It’s old,
This way
I find myself
Alone.
And I am no longer young.
Oct 16, 2025
Oct 16, 2025 at 7:29 AM UTC
It’s old,
I know,
Owned by a version
Of me
That is smaller
And softer
With bigger
Eyes
For
Possibility
And
A firmer grip
On
Truth.
And she’s
Offering
Some delight
With her chin
Up,
And her shoulders
Back,
Eyes
Sneaking glimpses
Of your eyes
Of which bit
Stirs you.
I can see,
From here,
The power
In the offering,
The meaning
In the offered.
And the fall
Is sudden
When she falters,
And the blow
deep.
You don’t notice
At first
How her chin
Drops,
How her shoulders
Curl,
How she folds
Her edges
Into herself -
Gripped
And
Diminished.
And she
(And me,
Still me)
We
Miss
Your invitation.
It’s old,
This way
I find myself
Alone.
And I am no longer young.
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