Oct. 24th, 2013

Wrote this a few days ago
*********

I look to you still though an effort of will

Will allow my mind to turn away

But to sort out the mind without thoughts of a kind...


You were such a resource for me and all my reasons to want your conversation are selfish. And while selfish things should be heeded when needed, our interaction was ever poorly suited to thoughts of myself.


They became desperate.

They strained.

The tears, squeezed out in a lengthening whine, drained my eloquence.


I think it's your move, and will have to be until you make it

Until age silvers our eyes in clouds

Until my hand shakes too much to lift

Until your breath breaks its promise

And the chess piece forever keeps its place


And all these words and thoughts of mine

The love of strange and stunted beauty

Remain my own though facing you

Unaltered, unassumed


What a preservation then in portait

Of our imperfect piece

A world of crumbs and crumbles

Captured in frieze

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mayamaia

February 2015

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