Blue, like his eyes, hers, yours.
Deeper than honey, darker than our roots.
Old enough to rust.
Tinted old wooden, chesnut floors
Bolder than oceans, brighter than pursuit.
Hughes I've come to trust.

What happens to the child that falls again, again?
Who tried to walk, but broke herself upon the floor.
Who sought to stand, and when standing found a plan.
Why, she'd carry herself right up to the door.

What happens to that child when she falls again, again?
Why, I suppose she stands.

Mirrors 'Round a Vase

The heart can do funny things, like mirrors round a vase
Make you hate the ones you love, or love the one you hate.
When held, feel suffocated and wish for only space,
And when space you find, you wish it had a face.