Thursday, December 10, 2015

From Maria's 'the conversation stretched through the night'

The conversation stretched through the night
I failed to make it land almost right
It reached to make it but tipped at the last
Making me then wish for a past
That I never had then and now
That I am old enough that time has passed
I waste my foolish hanging with a bow
To what was then and how
I am a stranger to myself and perhaps a foe
The myth I need and cannot find to let myself go
To smile at the then while laughing at her maybe
Clasping the dream, I scowl at she
Who winks fondly from behind the glass where she likes to hide
Leaving my confidence blown open wide

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