In sunrise, sounds evade our tender lips;
a stilted rhyme scheme surrounds the silk, the down, the summer…
in succession, a car door slams and a kiss is thrown.
Before them, the dogwood tree blossoms and weeps.
Your silence overwhelms me;
side by side with misplaced dignity,
conflicting questions court me;
always, I find my courage hiding at the foot of my unmade bed.
Eros has set up camp here just to plague me;
the sharpened tips of arrows,
the weak, the lonely, the codependent –
this awkward abyss, the walls of which we grip, is appalled by our desperate “us”.
I am going to continue to sigh,
for in our moments, cogitations should well remain hidden.
NS 04.06.2010
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