Minds entangled in words
left unspoken
in the night. Dreams
made and broken
in morning light -
on tides that pass
in and out of lives, breathing
flames from hearts shorn
of deceit.
A surge of pain and passion
still lingers
ever hungry for more than
souls can give,
than dreams can manage,
in the harsh
reality of a cold winter's
wind. And
icicles melt while love
hesitates
to walk through an open
door.
Candles burn hot wax, dripping
on
skin to parched to be more
than human.
The ebb and flow of life
reaches out,
touching again the stillness
that exists
in minds too weary to feel,
to weary to rest lest they
feel another's
heart. And calling home
the tears and
tides, calling home the
time that binds
and clings to outworn dreams,
only watermarks remain to
be seen
Copyright: 5 June
1998
S. M. LeBoutillier