Here is she,
The wall of my collapse,
As the woe
Wields the heartache and throe
Of my future’s promise
To be the simple droplet upon a cheek,
Swimming in fear.
There is she,
With fortune to call misfortune,
For she remembers the inklings of yesterday.
“The shadows are kinder than any promise
The given light could spark,
For your radiance is a faint one.”
Myself, from the fright.
Myself, in the sight
Of leaving this reflection behind,
Of a mirror, taken from the ice
Between my feet.
As scorning sadness,
You can reach through the surface
To see my webbed tears
Caught like pearls in the stilled moon.