Unfurling  Silk

Love, it’s everything, isn’t it?

She was something I grabbed up

and draped my dreams over—

what a poet’s dreams are made of.

Yet, my heart is scarred by wounds of time.

I saw my dreams reflected in her eyes;

large liquid eyes staring back,

reflecting eternity.

An old dream,

an abandoned dream, pulled her to the known.

Stranded in her heart,

the quiet was a sea of empty space

in a pulse pounding present,

somewhere west of north,

in the middle of nowhere.

Sometimes I felt like the first joke told on earth,

though emotion always drew her back.

She veiled her hurt with gentle smiles

casting her fate to the wind.

The smile was born first.

Laughs came easily

expressing a thousand different sensations

to those who met her.

She walked away with the fluidity of unfurling silk.

Like a whisper in a melody of silence,

as graceful as the morning mist.

Now, the silence palpitates with the sound of my heart.

She will always remain the sum of my dreams.