It is nothing when
one small ember of feeling surges into flame.
Or when you travel through only dreams with a smile,
not taunting, but touching.
Or when your eyes water rather than burn.
Or when my heart feels like a lonely river.
It matters only that your hair,
falling over your eyes, as
a dark river would fall
into a black pool-
cool under the moon-
is the source of my waiting now
for my hands to finish
reaching, grasping for that silk-
Even as I ask myself-
Is it easier to struggle over huge
and vague words
to express what I could with
one first move?
I know the answer will be meaningless.
For the traffic of movement ends
in a mist of dreams..
and dense reality
but a river of words is less faded
and less real.
Lips move with seeds of memory,
but remembering is my choice
a choice that will let me
Our moment is defined by emptiness-
then will a memory of the past fulfill
in a storm of desperation
Who are you
with your dark eyes and curious smile
to run from
my silent words
until we can run together
in that ghost realm
that blustering river.
Fulfilled by a shadow of
an instant from the past
when you hear this song
you will have already heard it
you will remember
and you will reach
but you are already reaching
and my eyes are dark
under the moon.
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