Saturday, March 7, 2015

Little known

I can't find the words anymore
Because like many things, 
I lost them while I was careless
And I lost them while I was free.

I want them to sink in comfortably,
But I want to tell it true.

In the eyes of a stranger,
I was beautiful and furious.
During a hungry heart's layover,
I thieved moments I could have instead
Spent looking for you

And what a wonderful, 
quiet mess this was,
Being home away from home.

There were twelve warnings,
One for each month of the year
Compressed into half
And half of this half
Is still warmly nested
In dreamy questions of
What could have happened?

It was only a Parisian summer
that tricked me.

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