Rêveur

Bleary eyed

stumbling rêveur to

the flame.

Torn up soul, incinerate.

Collect her remnants

to be another fickle

thing for wind to sweep.

Heart string's a noose

which slackens, tightens

intermittently, starting

the throes of youth.

Dangling rêveur,

stutters in her own show.

Who could know

that innocent affection would

progress to ends

such as this?

Her neck is black

and bruised, and already her

wide eyes have shoved hopes

in corners with the

other shadows she forgot,

now neglect their play.

Repentant rêveur

to the end of her days.

Love verses sound trite,

but only because they bite

a little too close

to the previous wound

of the aforementioned noose.

And when she tries to get close,

spark goes the flame,

tight goes the ropes.

A rêveur dreams,

but foremost,

she recollects and hopes.

And in that repetition

lay the cohesion of our

connection.

Jaded, but hopeful,

heart knotted then undone.

Scarred but reflective,

torn then mended.

Brimming yet empty.

Caught in time's trance.

These ever passing seconds.