A Second Renaissance
Dance and groove.
Smile and hypnotize.
Your eyes telling a story beyond the commonly known.
When you move the way that you do.
The winds take a pause to let you show it another way to breezily move about.
You’re an artist of the newly original now.
I love you but you can’t know it.
I love you and I can’t show it.
If I were to cross that path with you, you might just end US right then and there.
We have our separate lives and they can’t be woven together.
Someone else got call to you their own before I could and sometimes that’s the way fate rolls along.
Benefiting those who have short term ideals thus taking their better half’s along for their emotionally souring rides, sailing along on their draining year after year tides.
You could have my love and you know its there.
It’s millimeters before your feet and your finger tips but you make no attempts to give it any declarations.
So it gathers layers of time like furniture gathers dust.
And a friendship is where we live out within the confines of our comfortably shared ways.
I’m not here for you.
But I know that you’re going to be there for me.
I love you to a point.
And I know that you love me unequivocally.
We exist on a consciousness island of certain understandings.
You’ll do as you do to and be supportive.
And I’ll do my thing and carry on as is deemed individually fit.
You won’t flirt with another soul.
But I’ll flirt with another by indulging in a passive action or a momentary stare.
Were we’ll go I don’t know.
But the oasis that has been created should make for a sort of comforting respite.
You’re cared for.
But it seems that it matters not.
Someone can tell a dirty joke.
And the less inebriated person who gets the punch line gets the additional commentary award for smiling at the crassness of a stranger looking for that shallow moment of classless attention.
You are showered with occasion bouts of affection and praise.
But they get sneered at.
You’re loved unconditionally.
But the love you express is seemingly only skin deep.
Things are done for you out of admiration.
But a blank stare accompanied by a near silent “thank you” is your response.
It’s like you’ve silently engineered your own vessel to dwell about it.
While at the same time a vessel of partnership is being captained about by one person instead of two.
What compelled you to write in the first place? Maybe it was started as a part of therapy, maybe while serving a tour of duty in a combat zone, or did it just come naturally?
I walked and ran past this opening in some trees before taking the picture for a year. It always caught my attention each time and eventually compelled me to take the shot. Photography is a great creative venue.