Keepsakes

Written, if not worth the paper,
A rainy day, forgiving saviour,
It simply left me sating or,
In the very least, fusillading for
thin folds to meet at stronger edges,
Creating new shapes with old connections;
To give you gauge on darker days and
brighten the corners that shadows stayed.

Days I’ll have and days I’ve known
the sound it makes when hearts let go,
The smiles you’ll fake when mountains move,
Troubled eyes lead to twisted truths,
But trust in me or let it fade,
and don’t hold tight like fiction’s maid.
Let lying words lie, still your tongue,
And take my love if you’ve wanted one.

The next time for me, it would seem,
I’ll see you here when fate then deems
the clocks are met with silent pride,
Do lengthened embraces brush aside
the last thing left, or lust ascend?
Even gone, my heart will mend
when a piece of life resides with me,
Buttons and strings, flowers and seeds,
Buttons and strings, clasped hands freed.