The hours
Minuscule, the hours which have passed,
a momentary deflection,
when realizing
the years
gone
by…
How infinite, the accumulation of time in betwixt a memory
and a dream, my collection of the tears within
my eyes.
Remembrances and images regrettably I have kept,
picture framed moments imprisoned
beneath a thin sheet
of glass.
I
had
given up beyond all hope until our eyes met each other’s eyes.
You, seeing my weaknesses and I seeing your strengths.
You, sharing with me all that you were.
And I, giving to you what little
was left of
me.
