I. Meeting You
I cupped my heart in the bottom of my palms
as an offering to your own:
its lulling rhythm, drifting into my auricle,
Entangled in the feeling of your hands,
foolishly grasping mine…
Wait for me, we both promised Time
intrepid for the torn-up road lying blind.
II. Loving You
I danced into the maelstrom
as if the sun, herself, had invited me in:
pouring a part of myself into your heart,
running my fingers along the strings of your harp.
And you grew flowers in me where only sadness embellished
strolling across my mind the way grapes thrive on vines
Wait for me, we both promised Time
Afraid that our happiness was just a rhyme.
III. Leaving You
He desired the consonants when I drew on the vowels:
love suddenly turned into dingy towels,
cleansing the last nine months of your voice,
your hands, your heart…
And every day since, our soft-spoken isolation blooms
into a scarred seedling, barely piercing the soil
Wait for me, we both promised Time
but we ended before we could speak our first lines.
Be First to Comment