rough silk:

Looking through the clouded lens.

I still could see your face,

but I can’t seem to remember your smile.

Small snapshots of time can never

tell the story.

You’re not the hero, struggle as you might.

At least not how I hoped you would be.

Hold me.

Rough silk,

torn lace.

Sewn together,

a chimera.

We’ll meet again, I promise.

You can be Narcissus, I’ll be your reflection.

All your beauty, all your shame.

Run your hands through me,

sink into my waves.