Missed Connections in Raleigh-Durham
Sweater Weather
Hurt rose,
but fell, as sun.
Honor some or none.
These eyes knew love,
At its pearly gates.
Teeth shines with grief.
Let her pain, come as your relief.
Otherwise go angry,
And swallow down her dreams,
With a heavy tongue.
Heavy eyes,
Heavy hearts,
suffocated from the
Start.
If not the business of love, then
What are we here for?
I never closed my doors.
Crystallized eyes
Doesn’t mind shedding time
As tears. Wears the memory
Draped over her shoulder.
Forgiveness lies in
The eyes of the beholder,
My heart grows older.
For now I listen to
The waves. They carry
Sound as sand,
Or memories.
One by one,
Sticks to me, while
Soaked by waters,
And blood.
Her Two Cents
One of the beautiful tragedies of the thinking mind is its ability to create meaning from anything and everything that crosses its path or stream of consciousness. A rose can signify beauty or of pain, sand can polish or chafe, water may cleanse, soak, or spill over and down – or not. Scientific orchestration determines what something is, but we determine what it will be.
