she became a sheet of glass
when the light no longer
illuminated its stains
revealing a poor mirror
into which his infatuations
dashed their delicate wings
too late, the goodwill
and naivety of infatuation
is worn thin (and broken)
by the disbelieving cynic
his own relationships
Let me be the treasure in your eyes
The object of which you wish to espy
For now, let us love, heedlessly in lies
Before all facades recede, by-and-by.
This glimmer of gold is but the dust of dreams
The beguiling hope of a universe star-seamed
Of your own promise thrust in me
The caged thing which will be set free.
And again you’ll know I was but Pandora’s box
For a while, you the key and I the lock.
A love spoken too soon
brings bitter frost to tender shoots
And one too late
heralds the scorching drought of summer
So let us never speak
Let us never meet
And see each other as from the first –
Impossible, beautiful dream
If your gaze were but a book
Such intricacies would speak a look
And power behind that loving stare
Would whisk me away from tedious care
Of that mundane uninspired everyday
Enticing me to cavort and play
In the idolized light of your grace —
For where you dwell is Eden’s place
If spring follows winter
Then your eyes are the height of summer
And your lips only promise song.
Even your barbs are tender and blunted.
In anger, I still find the vulnerable shaking
Of a compassionate, easily-bruised heart
Which I once wrapped myself in on a cold, lonesome night.