Dark

When darkness

Comes to rest 

Against the dark

It is thought

That all is dark. 

Hand

You took

My hand

In such

A way,

Even if

I wanted

I could not

Let go. 

Stained

It fell thinly

It was prickly

And it was

Hardly more

Than mist

Still it left

The cloak

Salt stained

Blue. 

Find

Finding 

Your way

Into everything

And anything. 

Number 22

 

In the moment it seemed to have a meaning, now what I see is meaningless. 

His Ways

He had

A way

Of saying

What he had

To say,

Without

Saying it

In saying

What he

Had to say,

He brought

Forward

What once

Was hidden

It was

Better 

That way 

To say 

What he 

Had to say 

Without 

Saying it. 

Differences

  

There we stood with all our differences, I would say a thousand or more and yet all you said was “There is something similar, for me that is all.”

Do not

Let me 

Not 

Love you. 

Is this 

To be 

The 

Scrapbook 

Of my heart. 

It Is

It is 

Not that 

I would leave.

It would be,

That I could

Not stay.