Why is your compass spinning
Slowly pointed backwards
When I wish your arrow was
Pointed at me
We have very similar in person
Communication styles
But our texting styles are
Completely different
I am learning how to
Meet you there
Scintilla or so
A long time ago
I used to do that
Because she used to help me
I don’t know if she ever wanted to
But she did it
Zip your lip
Speak from the heart
Say it with your eyes
Free from demise
Or me; More of what you
Might regret
Something about sewing
Maybe we could thread them?
The stress was inevitable
As was the opalesque sky
On frosty mornings in particular
Tiny planes look like traveling stars
Maybe there was a reason to
Shave the back of your neck
To commiserate with the moon
The silhouettes of the leafless trees
Abandoned his loneliness for
Singular mornings although
Artistry to soul excavation
Was more fruitful
So too were implications
Of hearthstone memories
Oatmeal and laughter crowded out
Yelling and screaming which
Inadvertently had been the reason
For keeping a safe distance
From her whip like tongue
If it weren’t for all the lashings
We might still be sharing porridge
On cold mornings like this one
Time is funny
© GÄ
Poétique 