My mind runs back to such a jewel of a memory:
The note that I never gave you, the note I feared would be out of your tune.
It quietly wept out to you, if you'd just listened.
It'd say, it'd mumble, in my back pocket,
"To me, you are perfect."
Even now, after all your accidental mind games, the feelings don't change.
The feelings don't dislodge, either, and there's been no withdrawal
From those dreams of me, dreams of you -
Making an US for us together.
Now that you open up, close down, open up again, close down again
Before me like the RUGOSA, I learn that the signals you sprinkle on me are
Mixed like the sound of wind chimes and crows.
And by the time you fess up your poison,
I'll be gone, on an island somewhere
Between still feeling for you and
Choosing to feel along without you.
So now every time I see daisies or
Hear the songs that were written about you,
I do wonder, what's it gonna be
Between you and me
In order for this wall you've unknowingly packed together
To tumble down like the tears from
These terracotta eyes of mine.
What's it gonna be?
Just what is it gonna be, angel?
YOU ARE READING
SUNSHOWERS
Non-FictionA book of poetry. A book of tears. A book of blood and sweat, too. A book to hold me. Will you let it hold me?
