My Moon, His Sky

He is a hard one to love



Say things in multiple silences


And I forgive his inexperience


Multiplying in a cataclysmic


Carefree


Combustion






I can’t ponder his frailty


Rise up my legs


Touching thighs


And be blessed


…thank me later






Oh I welcome your blindness


Freedom deliverance in an agonizing moan


Visualizing complex simplicity


Is unheard of






How insecure be the throne of you


Like do I really walk amongst his tears?


Throw away my own brightness


Stretch my arms to his sky






I wither at the moment he wrestles me


Do I dare leave me there ebbing?


The reason why our world craves an opening


Tide


So it seems






So ever clear, the blue hue is not happy tears


I’ve even shattered the moon in half


Split the screen in my dreams


And nothing would appear






Filter


His fear


A hard one


To love


He is…




©Vernette Harris 2011

Sunday Rose

Running immediately backwards in slow motion


Peeking at the wasted scenery

And closing eyes to the memories

Eyelids have exhausted themselves in wondering

While tears linger and remain unmoved



There lies a willow tree and beneath

Are his scurried footsteps

Embedded in the mud scattered above

Rooted promises…

Gravitating to his spirit lying in it



I gaze at the droop of the leaves…

Insinuating anguish and suddenly

Sorrow is no longer dangling

And in my journey back in time,

We’ve said our goodbyes in the form of a hello kiss



Searching the emptiness of black and white highlights

Making out the shadow waiting in abated anxiety

And you…

To greet your soliloquy of aspiration

Wrapping myself in the comfort of the rapture

I’ve become undone, in the moment



You’ve somehow captured the movement in his eyes

Resembling his distant stare of ardor

And I welcome the sun rising from your hindering soul

Melting in its glow



Fast forward to the seconds in which we’ve once ignored

I am spread upon the point of it all

Banging fists through the air filled voices

Silence ensues…

Giving thought to hearts pounding in a steady beat



We arrive separately and meet the beautiful rhythm



Afar…

Divine and lonely…like a Sunday Rose



© Vernette Harris 2011