in progress

October 18, 2010

i began writing you a poem. i wrote the last line first, hoping the rest would materialize in the process. it didn’t then, as it never does, because you deserve more than i had (have) to offer. i just want you to know that i’m still working; i’m amidst an unending process of working.

i wish so often that i could create beyond myself, that it didn’t always come back to the restriction of my abilities. because then it might reflect you in your brilliance and beauty.

i am pale, but i hope you see something of yourself in my dark eyes.

.

.

.

what can the leaf say to the wind?

you will carry me to the end…

i will hold to you until then.

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