Unspoken...

     In the sweet
            anticiaption
   of each passing moment
             waiting
         for you to arrive,
     thoughts crowd
         into my head;
    questions
           answers
              explanations
 compete to be the first
    to reach your ears.
  but the very moment
        you 
  walk through my door
     and smile
            at me
   the words fall short
  and everything my heart
        needs to say
      can only be spoken
          with my lips
              against
             yours

Common Thread

There is a thread of you
  sewn into the garment
        of my soul;
       once rent with sorrow,
              now there is
         a beautiful seam
       of tiny, perfect stitches.
    Your thread has mended holes
         torn by  regret
               and grief.
      It has basted together
          the  raveling edges
           and careless tears
         of  misuse and
                 heartbreak.
       It has patched up
             threadbare,
             rough worn places
      that no one ever saw,
                but you.
             And now,
                   this thread
           has become
             part of me,
                 And you
          have become part
             of everything
                   I am.                       
   
 

Detente

  We are both
     battle worn
  and scarred
  from this war
    we wage.
 There has been
   blood spilled
      on both sides
  from sharpened words
     wielded in anger;
   a broken truce
draws lines in the sand.
 Your armor is tarnished;
      my tower in ruins.
 We have only a single
          kingdom
 to which we both lay claim.
      but only one of us
     may have ownership.
  the emissary of peace
     demands compromise
        but I will not
    surrender my ground
         without knowing
  if I trade my throne
        for chains.
  So you throw your
           white flag
    at my feet.
       take the chains
             I fear
       upon yourself.
            exchanging
     your sword
           for the
        uncertainty
    of my forgiveness..

Apology

 


  I cannot grant
      forgiveness
            as easily
   as you bestow 'sorries'.
     My words hold weight,
     they have meaning,
   unlike any 'sorry'
    you have ever spoken.
 You kneel at my feet
    to plead your
      regret.
   Now you see 
    what you have lost.
 what you threw away.
    Now you feel
  the absence
      of something
     truly spectacular,
        and rare.
   You lift your eyes to mine
        you whisper
            you beg
          and I turn away.
     'Sorry' isn't currency
     accepted by this broken soul.
       And forgiveness costs
              far more
      than any atonement
         you offer
             on bent knee.