Wednesday 1/04/2006 10:44:00 PM

The sweetest kiss. The one that never disappoints. The further I lose myself the more you find in. Like a broken mirror you reflect all those pieces that I struggle to put together.

They were always there. But you're the only one that shows them as they are. At the foot my thoughts they gather. All unattached and mishapen. Crying for a solution I can't give them.

The first and the last are the best. One to taste for the first time. The other to admit it never should have been..

In the first I still find hope. That happiness is ours to pretend. And in the last I find satisfaction. That what we are isn't always what we ought to be.

It seems to taste me as I do it. As the night slips out of its dress together we touch her with the awkward poise only given to poets and alcoholics.

Is this mine? Theirs? Or someone else's?

Where do i go now that these paths have been revealed?

Only home again. I would. If such a place could be found.

Or barring that. Away from here. Away from this self. That sees every color in, but boradcasts them still only in black and white.

There are so many colors. If only it would allow me to see them again.

It's my fault, but you can see, I'm sure, how essential it is to blame something else.

2 comments:
artiste said...

Mmmmmm... here's a few colours for you to look at.
www.artdziner.co.nz
I have one painting to finish tonight so shall email you tomorrow! No, I never did start the painting of your poem, but nonetheless it will come out this year, I can feel it.
Sending you some colours.....

lash505 said...

Nice poem



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