Translational

Washed-eye wonders, spacious

and vacuous, full and free.

Loved me, she loved.

Not me, Love she. 

So calm and cold, the

swan's shelter, wary. 

Translation, the

quiet world, the

single whispers.

Tapestry, warm

heartbreak, missing

It is truly over, I think.

Wait. Wait. Wait.

I can still hold those things.

They sing with me.

We dance alone.

I can still hold those things.

They sing sad songs.

And it disappears.