a hanging
shadow–
i pass through
you
notice not my
whisper
in blind attempt
to catch your focus
if only for the
moment.
shadow play
was not prepared to
feel so stripped
by the threat of
one stranger
with a pressing need
to be heard
while i could
not lend
ears.
she offered
amity,
i leant a heart
to be seen
and touched with
childish
hands
reaffirming that
feeling
is worth the
danger
of running naked
through my
mind,
still offering such
charity
in your words
for me,
when all i crave
is truth,
for it bridges the
disparity
between what you
say and
do.
each snowflake shares
a story
to those with
ears for
quiet
nestled in between
the hours
we rest as though
in death.
we’ll blow lost
shadows
kisses,
until their groans
grow weak,
we’ll hush our
thoughts
stirring or
not
let’s let this
graveyard sleep.
so much blood
on ice,
melted down
to intended state
to absorb back
into veins
with the wisdom
of hindsight
in organic
light.
night falls with a
clatter and
shatters,
so we gather up
the shards
to restore what
we will by
dawn.
posing with such
poise
while deflecting
questions,
in a genial
voice of
reason
you
resolve
situations
before they turn
frustration.
i melted into
you
and felt that
ache
as though i
caused
it,
then tried to
soothe
it
in ways that robbed
you of the
chance
to better know
yourself.
hands in the garden 
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