wasted connections

as we go on
learning to recognize
the signs of love,
we get tangled in
the silence of the leaves
the pier of tomorrow’s loneliness
and the ink of tailfeathers painted on your arms.
because no matter how many
times I trace the pattern
or we walk the empty dock
I can’t bring myself to look
at your copper colored eyes
or the hand draped across my shoulder
or the waves bringing jewels to shore
or the helplessness of the dying leaves.


and so I walk on with you
although every bone in my body screams against it.





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