~For Ayesha~

for simply put,
or
simply taken,
they’re a disguise...

eternal guards on duty,
alphabet soldiers that
grow more vigilant

standing reef,
a barrier,

a thousand years to erosion complete.

this is the right poem, but the wrong words. Mystified me, how
can this be? such a young person, whose words speak to me?

If we are not our words, what will we become?

Bending holding up
Time as you know it
My hand Clinging
To the minute hand the hour hand
Slow
It
down
We're in it
We're in it
Now
Not tomorrow

I'll write until I surely know
The morning light
Has found You

She writes she writes
Until the night has settled
Confidently in her lap again

Far be it from me
To complexify the issue
By propulgating wrongery
Less I subterfuge
My untentions
Toward wittery
And ashoe
Refudiation

The comedies of our life
Are ripe to go rogue
And become dramas.

When I asked for love,
That I might hold it in abundance
I was given weakness
That I might succumb to it.

And though I asked for love,
Love never once asked for me.
I had not known love,
But love knew well of me.

I asked for compliance with love,
Though it never once held favor.
And while I could not
Bring myself to love,
She loved me.