:(

leafing thru the past
poems, where we started
a thousand words
you never understood
feeling naked
of meaning, lost
they still long
for one last look

you are a part of them
you are them, in colors
i can never create
with a million paint
like a song left
unhummed,
they wait, for one
last chance

leafing thru the pages
i found, you leading
an end i have never written,
no! i have deleted that mark..
yet, i see
yes that's where we are headed
perhaps, even after
i write a poem,
one last time