Disappearing in the blacklight
Of yet another "revelatory experience"
She sits, her hand on her knee, tense.
Not expecting anything, but belief
Sometimes overcomes sense
Condemned to his hapless heart
For yet another second - pining
For the painted reds and blues
She is turquoise like the brine on the sea
Like the color of my mother's bracelet
And is beautiful, her eyes on me
I can't break the silence though,
I can't let her down
But I must.
She will find her landscapes
I will find mine.
