There are tears hiding in your confident voice.
They peek out through the vowels and darken the depths of your eyes.
The jagged edges of her memory surround you like a shroud
And the soft wind drags them ruthlessly across your aching heart.
Now your tears have sprung up in my clumsy words.
They gallivant in my concern, then drop from my whispers
And sting the scrapes on my heart, which translucently mirror yours.
You’re held together by a fragment of hope,
Ripped, stretched, and tied precariously around your chest.
I wish to offer myself as your bandage,
But my touch could never keep your scars from bleeding.
I watch as the wind tears viciously at your open wounds
(The same breezes which breathe, so gently, joy and love to me!)
And, helpless, fear my heart will rupture with your pain.