morning mirror;
not saying anything more
oh, what do i see?
through these eyes
where i left us to be;
nothing short of what should have been
words soaking in a liquored terror,
emotion in an solar emptiness
but i think that’s way it’s always been
under the shade of a burning tree;
nothing is more lonely than
one that drowns in its own spoken word
burry oneself against the way its always been
morning mirror
not saying anything more
oh, what do i see?,
through these eyes
killing all of mine
c. june 2019 bgw