conscience is a stream,
leaves fall but it sounds like rain; strum instead of fade.
seasons, they say, change
and Autumn begins to weep.
Mary sings of sugar
but it’ll take more than
life in brown, red and golden hues.
I saw this tonight and wanted you to be the one I showed it to, but that’s okay.
I hate when I cry.
He said, Dare yourself
to see yourself
as I see you.
View you, as I do,
Shy, her shield,
Sparkling eyes never quite reaching
Those who find her,
Bashful, worn with grace,
Her words now yours
May be timidly drawn,
For those who deserve,
But written upon the skin
With wanton fingertips
For those who capture
Her touch, heart, her mind
And recognize the tingle
And willingly provides
Inside her, almost vibrating life
Was every sparkle, she had to hide
Bundle of expression, she’d closely kept
Hidden quietly, her undeniable breath
April came again, as it did last year
Every bit of her worry, is still her fear
What glows from within her suffocates
While she considers, what’s no longer at stake
As magenta opens and offers a view
It is he who still sees through
Understands her stardust, and always has
She found here, awaiting his hand
You and me
Both willing to ride the grayscale
Take our turn watching a perpetual lapping
Riding a wave
Possibilities of infinite durations
One in color