No wind to gently ruffle
The fine fringe that falls upon your forehead
I pick up the slack
Carefully caressing the China
So much more fragile
Than I had thought
Smoothing over the cracks and crevices
The wear and tear
Praising the August sun illuminating you
//October 28/22//
And once it has all been done
The last sorrowful serenade of a sacred song
Final proclamation that I am the one
Sifting of fingers over the lines of porcelain
Once defined enough to
Let me seep through
Moving closer to embrace the other
Sufficient enough without our midnight sun and my
Careful touch wicking away your ache and the
Tender touch of never feeling closer and
Never feeling that close again and as you brush against
The once smooth exterior and if you
Had lingered a moment longer you
Would understand that I am the China now but
It has all been done
And you no longer care
//July 06/22//