mine.

“you are beautiful,” you say,

and your eyes are

glazed in cloudless memory

of her radiant passion

and honeyed heart.

(so i thank you.)

“and smart,” you add,

and smile majestically as you

take in cluttered shelves glinting

with her golden laurels and

carefully dusted plaques.

(i blush.)

“i love you,” you say,

and my eyes well up

in tears that were never hers.

(and i know that you were never mine.)

a.n.: experimental thinger. maybe poetry's not my thing. :p review please, you lurking sillies. (:

becky.