Afraid of you in the silences I dare not give name to
I walk outside, the clear air mocking
Some desperate part of me that lies, huddled,
Back inside; and in the bleakness
That comes with my dreams I whisper questions to you
And they seem to suit the darkness.
Even in my dreams, you're only answer - a derisive laugh.
I walk slow, the storm trailing
My broken dreams behind; rent by lightning,
I wish to be cleft in twain,
A blankie shredded from overuse or growing older
With all of me you do not approve of
Left behind to follow unlike a shadow, a kite trapped in a tree.
I like to think I would visit this tree,
The colour of your auburn hair. But I suspect that you
Would not approve, my love.
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