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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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