Saturday, June 16, 2012

It is the end.

It is the end
Of something good and powerful
It is the circle of love, the endless life that flows throughout us all. 
Lifting and tilting and spinning us round
The sun
My sun
Who understood my tongue
And yours was intertwined with the
Small of my back and entranced with the way that we were and the freedom you felt
Always what I wanted 
Never quite enough, by choice
Wishing I could fit, him hoping I was willing to stay
Torn between the past of love and memories of shared moments that touched the way I think about what I desire,
And the part of me that knows it wasn't quite right. Wasn't quite the best, although you are so wonderfully kind, and thoughtful and take delight in my smallest of movements. 

You wouldn't let me in. 
The door stayed closed. 
And I walked down the hallway. 

Maybe there are other doors;
That open. 
To hope. 

1 comment:

MacLeaney said...

I have missed reading your poetry...