as yet unfinished

as yet unwashed

four white dresses

It’s raining,
And I wish you were here.
Because, and I know it’s cliché,
But I’m falling a lot harder
Than this rain, and dear,
It’s torrential here.
But these sheets of rain
Remind me of the sheets we share,
And I’d just as quickly
Wrap myself up in them
If I thought you were in there, too.
It’s 101° there.
But here it’s raining.
And I miss you.

They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love."
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."

and then
all of a sudden
it becomes an invisible part of the past
in which you don't exist

maybe in another life,
maybe with another name.

maybe in a different world
with different rules.

maybe with a kinder past
a safer present,  
and a brighter future.

maybe in a corner of my heart,
tucked so far down in my soul
that I'll be able to pretend
to forget that it is there.

maybe then I can love you,
as I wish to.