08 February 2021

Pretending

the light isn't coming back on--
too much trust for something
with invisible wires.
too much honesty for something
that pretends 
to be the sun.

I don't think I'm brave.
before your eyes knew me,
you thought I was--
skating into each tiny dream
on ice as black as fear...

when the light burnt out
I went to bed and
never got up
because it never came back.

a slight glimmer came, once,
a trick from my window--
or from my eye.

optic nerves, invisible wires tied so gently,
mapped by God and science...

too much trust for something
that is not guaranteed.

before your eyes knew me,
I philosophized.
I evangelized.
but then the ice cracked beneath my feet,
and I plunged
with you above me, 
so far away,
light-years away

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