Always Her Lover

Like a dark-blue angel I walk these streets asleep
Spilling water-thoughts for my sky-blue girlfriend
And with much ease splashing about a serious desire
To express the fluidity in my style of loving her

With her pale-white precious face of a place
Upon that space the moon introduced a sister-image
And in winter’s name with delicate snow-like fame
Dressed my lover’s hands in white cotton gloves

© Matthew Goff

The night,
The sounds,
The scenery,
The times,
Everything is just the same.

But then I realized,
There’s one thing different,
That thing is, our minds, our thoughts,
And our feelings also,
Aren’t the same.

- Aud.

Carried you around like an emblem,
Wore you on my sleeve,
the Bastard Child iron-on patch.
Damaged goods and everyone knew it.
Lump in my throat I never could swallow,
I named it Pride and found solace in it.
Named my Traitor Tears
Giving Up and Giving In
and mourned them as they fell.
Learned forgiveness is for the victim,
almost never for the culprit.
Taught myself how to love
so sometimes it's a little selfish.
Pride jumps from my throat
the day I admit that I want you.
I never needed to swallow it,
only to let it go.
I came home the day
I came to you.
Your embrace felt like divine intervention,
and I'm a fucking atheist.
Twenty one years worth of resentment
evaporate into thin air. Never knew
I was capable of this kind of forgiveness.
So bold as to let you see my weakness,
and that I am made entirely of it.
Never felt more whole than I do
in your presence.
We pick up where we left off,
though we never left off to begin with.
Found a friend and a father on the same day
in the same man, learned to love in a way
the Bastard Child could understand, and now
I need only to forgive myself.

I stand beside the sunlit edge
of pond and meadow touching hands,
watch flirting leaves that twitch and swirl
then bob and curtsey in their dance.

Soft water rippling into shore,
beneath bowed willows' trailing arms,
push tender shards of russet brown
to catch and curl between the reeds.

Though reds and gold light up the trees,
no harsh wind sings of winter's chill,
but autumn whispers in the breeze
and summer hums a sad farewell.

I look for you here
something in me longs to find myself
hidden in someone's sorrowful words
or adoring lines
I look for a mirror here
as my eyes wait for your name
I want to see myself in blazing colors
Poems from the eyes of another
But selfish never gives me happy
and I stare at my own too much