You are not my own
Yet I held myself
When I held you.
Stars freckle your sky face
Freckled like your mother
That which I do not share.
Nor do I have
Your turned-up nose.
Your azure eyes
We all have.
Light on a torch
Beaming back.
Your eyes
Your mother's eyes
Your grandmother's eyes
Your great-grandmother's eyes
(whose I still see so clearly)
The light she carried from others who said
"Bonjour" and "Au demain"
"Ferme la porte!" and "Je t'aime!"
Month: July 2019
A Cavern of Mirrors / Origami
Thoughts and images fill my head but don't connect to the words and phrases that would leave my mouth and connect me to you. So I sit, a cavern of mirrors, reflecting my thoughts onto myself, and only myself. My arms fold against my chest and start the forever inward folding, away from you, away from what I want. I look like an asshole when the words elude me. My forged bravery is a sham, and I am now all alone in this room.