mornings.
i remember the two
that i was so carefully permitted.
i remember the two
as the painting hangs in my mind-
red. gray. the rain drips over me.
and there's nothing to say, really
you don't owe me anything-
no explanation or tidal wave of emotion.
i'm not even sure there would be a tide
to rush and meet you.
but still, i'd like to think i could offer the option.
nights spent were passionate-
hazy. but safe.
and i met you in that cloud
you were under.
i begin to wonder, as sand moves on,
which rock you really thew
and what want you desire.
will you open yourself to that fear
or is this over before the game
even begins?