When I’m Not Around

Wild Heart Scribe

I ache for another channel

to show you how it feels

to know you think of me

when I’m not around

miss me when I’m gone

wait for me to come back…

Time lapse photography

could show the paring down

of an out of tune faded heart

being refashioned

beating to a new time

as only crimson can…

Would you get it then?

Oils could show a stormy splashing

of Spartan blacks and greys

headed in no direction

with a placid lilac center

that is all the direction I need…

Surely then you’d know how I feel,

wouldn’t you?

A song could boost and heave

every sensation

set them on

a munificent banquet of

peach and mint notes…

but all I have are my words

sometimes they don’t feel like enough

they feel too pale

to make you feel the

vibrancy of what I feel

knowing that you think of…

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