say you'll go.
sometimes, i think and ask why.
i sit, on cement under the pitch black
and smokey clouded sky and wait as
they pass by - eyes thirsting and searching
for the star the secretly reads,
"i'll meet you in forever ... just believe."
and my eyes gently close shut and
my lips curl into the same shape
as the moons crescent ... this is not a love poem.
fantasies on their own - they leave.
without permission.
still.
i find
that strength,
to smile.
