i'm a bit more depressing than that.
Disappear
Deep green eyes, fringed with sapphire and dappled with gold,
They turn away.
Delicate ears, so mischievous at times and tender when she listens,
Shut me out.
Lips a pinkish red, with a voice like a prized music box,
Close forever.
Shimmering gold hair, floating on a non-existent breeze,
Vanish behind a door.
A dark door, heavy oak and steel,
Locked.
A special key, intricate and irreplaceable,
Shattered and gone.
Scratches and gashes, pepper the keyhole,
In vain.
Broken tools, a jackhammer, a knife,
Lay broken.
And I am afraid I am about to join them.
Weekends on the Bench
Sitting on the sculpted park bench,
“Yes” she says.
Her small figure leaning, pressing
Gaze of swirling opal and emerald
Sinking deep into me
Feeding my fire
The warmth, her warmth
Follows me
Into the icy world,
As if the AC was turned low,
I still feel my heart glowing,
But then, it fades fast,
The cutting chill gashes my arms,
I feel the warmth leaving me
While I wait through the night
Wrapped tightly in blankets,
Yet still on ice…
“I can’t” she says
Tremors surge from her epicenter
The columns holding up the sky shatter
And a downpour begins,
As my hands vainly attempt to wipe away her tears
Or is it my own tears?
I scurry to escape,
But I am chained.
By memories of orange starburst,
Of cherry bottle caps, mochas, and her gaze
Her gaze of stormy seas,
And the shifting opal that is sinking through its depths
As I strain on the bonds.
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