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By Galadrial Date: 2001 May 22 Comment on this Work [[2001.05.22.22.55.870]] |
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I woke to rain, the same fat drops they pray for in the wind swept arroyo and the touch of your fingers is still limning my skin the soft ghost of your kiss pressed against sleepy lips and I know you watched again as I lay sleeping, chased the hair from my cheek, and wondered what will become of you, of me, of us, if life has it's usual maddened bull in a china shop way with our hearts. We did not count the first rule--- that what is precious becomes that which we fear to lose, that which we value until a heart becomes a gibbering thing, half mad with fear and seeing ghosts in the dance of the curtains. You are thinking it was simpler when the amber glow was something unknown--- you cannot ever miss the color you have never seen, the touch your skin never knew. Simpler when I was a dream and you were the dreamer, and now you peer into what may come and wonder and weigh and ponder if you want me to pay the price of a love that presses itself from dream to real. More time to think, less to dream, but the cost is counted my love, if never I hold the gleaming gem softly in my hand still I will pay for wanting to make it mine, alone. And if my fingers shake, and it slips through my hands slipping into the cascade basin, still I will pay whether it was mine forever to keep, or just for one shining instant. |