The blue tinting of your numbered set,
the coloring of such beauty only possible
after facing the, before absent,
present mortality...one needs more
time to become jaded,
so for now I am simply tinseled.

There is a naivety in the absence of love,
the need for new affirmation in
the capability of the world to once
again hold onto your heart.

No patience within the presence of pain,
we simply cling to ephemeral half-life
traces of the real emotion we so
desire and therefore cheapen by
embracing tarnish.