it has always been you.
every time i feel myself falling.
every time i remember to be me.
the world is passing, and we are seen
in those moments when the
night is still in her infancy.
She, too, knows that it is you.
She knows of the ache, the pining,
and the keening.
it is still you.
i still wonder – often into the night.
i still find the restless chill of my
brow an old delight not worth
pretending was never my
want or need
nor was pleading or
the night still mocks my
soul, and I will have you know
that I was always
always thinking of the idea
the phantom smiles that hold your face
make my youth simplicity’s grace.
i am fallen from the cliff.
only half a man at times.
lift me, love, and forever know
that i have grown as much as i can
that i wish to grow old