a friend like you
its you i see, opening eyes on clear mornings
(even if my bed is cold and empty). every now and then
my mind wanders and recalls certain shy moments
that i might claim as the equinox of my girliness.
of course, there are precious few moments to turn over in my heart
over and over and over and . . .
- until all the details are at once worn with care or over-worked like a very fine drawing.
once, i opened my eyes to your face; imagine (sweet and innocent, asleep)
once, when you thought i was sleeping, you swept a strand of hair away from my face
once, your eyes lit up like christmas
once, we were swept up in the moment
and now i miss you again
in this small moment of my distant life
but i am comforted by the sweetness of impermanence.
(even if my bed is cold and empty). every now and then
my mind wanders and recalls certain shy moments
that i might claim as the equinox of my girliness.
of course, there are precious few moments to turn over in my heart
over and over and over and . . .
- until all the details are at once worn with care or over-worked like a very fine drawing.
once, i opened my eyes to your face; imagine (sweet and innocent, asleep)
once, when you thought i was sleeping, you swept a strand of hair away from my face
once, your eyes lit up like christmas
once, we were swept up in the moment
and now i miss you again
in this small moment of my distant life
but i am comforted by the sweetness of impermanence.