Before the ending moment
Of my ending day
How many streams of people
Have I noticed
Trickle through
As if one mass
Amoebically they sweep
Each in their own little bubble
Of their own little lives
Yet predestiny takes place
As two breathing orbs hook on
And for the moment
All stills
Hearts slow
Noise melts
Away
To the transparent echo
Of the willow's finger
Tracing ripples
Silky
Curling
Tendrils still
But far too soon
The connection
Stolen by the thieving hands of others
Harried pace
Evaporates
As heat kissing dew
How many times as this
Are passed without a linger
But still they wait
For there is now a something
Where a nothing once sat
In hollowed dormance
And in that brevity
Of pure vulnerability
The seams now shut
And the soft glimpse
Turns a hardened glance
Eyes aren't just windows
To the soul
They tell the stories
They print the lies