Friday, January 14, 2011

Gossamer Threads

Carmen Taggart

Disappointment, and frustration erupt,
Words as sharp as the knives you so carefully tend sever the ties that bind,
Neither of us knowing how to fix them or even if they should be fixed,
You simply drive away.

I can’t see your smile to know that you are still mine,
The voices in my head tell me that you are moving on,
The phone a poor substitute for the feel of your embrace,
A tentative thread binds us still.

I want to be in your arms,
Your hands cupping my face,
Eyes locked as I tell you that I love you,
That you will always own a piece of my soul.

I settle for phone calls and laughter,
Weaving a net of gossamer threads,
Our spirits dance across the divide,
Cold comfort as we relinquish our ties.

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