you helped me
disappear
when i couldn’t stand
my own sight,
so i danced
invisible
in time’s harsh
spotlight.
abstract
often, late
at night
i wait for you in
the corner of
my bed
as though you’ll
show
and guide me
by the hand
over to an open
window
to stare down
the moon together,
although i know
better.
“we’ll take it slow,”
you said
“let’s see where
this heads..”
sounded well and
wise at the
time,
but here you lay
tangled in
mine.
i watch as you
walk in,
it’s like seeing you again,
for the first
time
except you
see me
too,
seated in our corner
booth.
were we present
for the flash
or was it product
of a future
fading fast?
and would we know this
moment captured
well
or let it slip right
through our
grasp?
we commit our
sight
to the space
on wall
where family portrait
hung on for
dear
life
and let
go.
this bent door
frame
in this old
room
boasts your height
etched in
time
and
i’m reminded
that lives are measured
in moments,
not
markings.
i am all over the place
these days
like spilled
paint,
imprinting my mess
in peculiar
shapes.
i prayed unto
a glossy
moon
that dare not turn
its lighter
side
with all
that i still hide.
you’d have me chase
that mystery
through unlatched
door
into a room-
not yours,
now darling, do
i dare..
rummage through
all those old
times
that are not mine
to share?
hands in the garden 
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