And wander 'midst the wardrobe of my mind
Where longings lie dust-covered, dressed in rust,
And search secluded caches of behind.
I hunker down amidst debris and pain
And rub my temples, soothing aft the fear,
And squint in thought, emotions held in rein,
While puzzling pasts to which I still adhere.
Returning to reality I rage
And focus on the face of past beside
And wonder if another shot is sage,
If hope outweighs potential pain to bide.
I linger on the lips of lust with love
And wonder what they'd seem if seen above.
"Be of love (a little) more careful than of anything."
E. E. CUMMINGS
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