Some things burn with a ferocity, but what we see are the reflections left behind.
|Visible Reminders of Invisible Light
We sat at your kitchen table,
clinking mugs to the secret beauty
of the grey before dawn.
You tried to make tea,
I counted your fridge magnets,
tried to recreate a childhood
you wouldn’t tell me.
The sun rose through your venetian blinds,
you tapped a symphony of the kitchen table,
I made wishes on loose eyelashes.
I still can’t stop looking for your name
printed somewhere in size ten Arial.
Muffling the sounds of wishful thinking
at three in the insomniac morning
I paint hyperbolas with no asymptotes
on the pane dawn left wet with tears.