Sta.sh
Patience and Fortitude
A pair of stone lions
ready to devour my
thoughts of you
on a sunny afternoon
too late for licking
lollipops in faded blue
jeans and grasshopper
songs of late summer.
You were the oak, and I,
I was the willow, weeping
behind a smile made shy
by the trace of your fingers
over my lips, too mute
for words, of dandelion
daydreams and ice-cream
dripping down your wrist.
You were the stone, and I,
I was the sand, always
shifting beneath our feet,
dancing through fairy rings
and sunsets that linger too
long on tongues and whisper
songs and candy-coated
lies that were meant to
be true, "if only" had existed
at all, in those twilight stars
behind your eyes. I found
my solace in moments bound
up with colored ribbons and
a licorice kiss that fluttered
with the pulse of butterflies'
wings. Patience was never
mine. Fortitude your guide.
You were the constant breath
of caution, the steady hand,
the still gaze, and I,
I was the girl in the flimsy
skirt, always twirling out
of control, giddy and desolate,
too far gone for reason, and
despair, when hands no longer
touch sun-drenched skin and
cotton-candy wishes vanish
into the chill of fall, and the
cadence of sleep lingers
between sheets void of
warmth and movement
and only owls keep the
pace of time, fretted away
behind wing-beats and cries.
You are the castle and I…
I am stranded within your keep.
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