Dotting My Arms and Crossing My Stars

Is there hope in having our fingers crossed,

Or are we destined to be forever star-crossed?

Should I hope that these arms locked,

Will keep each other from falling apart?

 

Will the vows that from your lips promised

Be all that you said and more than it?

Maybe all that I’ll ever be is a skeptic,

But I question the strength of a mindless heart.

 

Love, you leave me breathless, yes you do

You also make me feel helpless, that much is true.

Like a child following blindly, is how I feel with you

Loving and being loved by you is a deconstructive art.

Advertisements

Sepulchre of Snow

VirginiaPoe

In the night I hither and thither

In hopes of growing fonder

Of the darkness that I do wander

With desires to grow accustomed

To the situation of “My Grief”

 

These city’s street lights love

To play tricks with my shadow

It waxes and then grows narrow

With the additional company

Of those watching “My Grief”

 

The snow banks ever upward

Threatening to upon me spiral

I downward struggle in denial

In a blunder to reunite

Postmortem with “My Grief”

 

The stone tablets project themselves

Through a temporary layer

Another burden they must bear

Although they remain quiet

Respectfully silent for “My Grief”

 

I find the sepulchre to which

I am most unwillingly familiar

Finally I sit down near her

Once again love is reunited

Passionately freezing “My Grief”