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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1682280
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.

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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1682280