To You

November 17, 2008
Your eyes are mine—
The same recessive green
Surrounded by the sun.
An eclipse seen through
Forests of hazel.

Is this why the little woman held me on a pedestal?
‘A favorite’
Or so a bit of ice informed me,
Oh so sardonically.

Am I akin to you in other ways?
I’ll never know,
Because of pain,
Because of nightmares,
Because of love felt for you
Because of your youth
You are forever anonymous to me—
A cryptic shadow.

There was only one picture of you;
On Christmas, the domestic holiday.
I held it close to my heart,
In a place most high
Where the sky is empty and Orion simply walks by
It is not there now.
A sibling having confiscated it for some unknown place.

“I’ll tell you one day.”
That is what she, said sibling, told me.
“one day” has not come. I fear it will not,
And then, I will be on my own.
Left to scrounge what bits of you I can,
As a tramp searches for food.
I am a tramp, too, I guess.
A vagabond on the road… to what?
To you.

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