Tuesday, June 22, 2010

To You.

I want to talk to you
I want to see you smile,
or cry;
but as it is
I'll never truly know
that you'll hear what I'm saying.

I'll never be able to see your face
sitting at this breakfast table
and there's not much chance
that our eyes will meet
through the dancing haze
of a bonfire.

I'll reach out
a little voice in the dark
a match thrown into the night sky
hoping to light the candle resting
in your cupped hands;
just enough light for you to take another step
just enough for you to take another breath
just enough.

My soul will forever be yours
and though my words may yellow on the page
and the epitaph above my grave
will succumb to the wind and rain,
I'll be as a light snowfall
clinging to your lashes
and you'll hear me as the fluttering pages
of an old book left open in a warm breeze.

I'll never feel your heartbeat
or see any joy in your smile
and you'll never watch my chest
rise and fall as I sleep
or see my eyes flutter open
when the morning trickles
through lace curtains
and warms my face-

but my hand will always be in yours
and my words will swirl through your mind;
each chord singing out
comforting as best they can
caressing as sweetly
and lighting another step-

always one more.

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