My fingers once brailled your beauty on
Alabaster skin. You were never afraid.
You stared deep into green
windows and Saw through the shadows,
past all reflection.
I tried to gaze into your clear eyes and
Saw mirrors instead. Twin reflections of pain.
Beating your fists and screaming for help against
A two way mirror, and I couldn’t see past my own reflection.
Sunny wheat fields, dark secretive forests and
Oceans azure, that was you sweet girl.
A sliver of crystalline purity lost to the cold
Dark abyss, I hate it for you because I know you won’t.
I still see your eyes like the sea reflecting a storm
Shattered sky, “keep coloring outside the lines,”
Softly spoken in a Humboldt haze, fingers intertwined and
Lying in a redwood garden. Memories mist with each sunrise.