I Clutch Tightly to the Blurring of You

In that erroneous age, the twenties
I had such ‘illusions’
I lived with love
And made only art
Hoping I would be able to eat tomorrow

I never averted my eyes
From rainbows and fountains
From women who seemed
In touch with a higher reality
Like a sweet heart

I buried my lips in the snow
Only to feel it melt in my spring
Then I turned thirty, and everything changed
I had only ‘poems’ to call my own

I lived alone
And made my heart
One with honeybees:
Honey looks different with age.

9 thoughts on “I Clutch Tightly to the Blurring of You

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s