Dark Eyes

photo by author

You were dark eyes
dark hair and sweaters;
I don’t think we ever touched
even a casual embrace.
You were the first to see me
as I emerged, timid
in the light of teenage bonfires,
a coming of age that you saw
but I did not have the language to speak;
the earthly grounding to know this body.

Something was wrong, even then
this body of language an offering between us
if age had not been a consideration, well
things would be different now.

Or would they? You’re still dead.
Those demons weren’t just teenage angst
it was a darker grip
a wrenching from reality
into the place
from which no souls return.

We could not kiss
like mountains touching
firm together at the base
foundations, plates of earth

they shift and move
and like a glacier, melted
you were gone, as though
calm seas were all
there’d ever been.