Where does the weary wind go?

Where does the weary wind go?

it seeps into the hearts
of the woed….

there it rustles
and stirs
up the tendrils
of hope.

it blinds the eyes
that see no future.

it breathes life
into the lives
that desire
no being.

its fingers trace
upon a teary face
the long forgotten
caresses
of a loved one
lost in waiting.

 

unmisted

the only way that you could know more than
all that i have captured from fleeting visions
from memories that do not belong to me
is to catch me falling within the ticking reality
and make them flawfully fated

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 deja vus warned of familiarity
of letting conscious control leave
lived and seen through unmisted eyes
themselves dreamy bittersweet blinks

no one must know
but you and i and our moments

traced

a solemn soul

sits upon the sands

tracing her slender spine

a tenderly once kissed neckline

smooth curves appear upon

sun-soaked granules

teasing out the features

that he thought lost

but fingers deftly recreate

upon a canvas grainy-fine

the ocean rushes to erase

the moment of recognition

lit/unlit

Darling, i see you face
like a burst of brilliance in the dark
flashing too bright
like a light bulb
before going out

Darling, your beautiful smile
minutely persists
like a streak of white smoke in the dark
a short-lived
glow-hazy flicker
of memory

whatever will i do
when all that remains
is a littered unlit place
spent matchsticks scattered
in the cavernous
confines of my mind?