Eyes reflect back from my window
Searching distances unfathomable.
Just about to grasp the other I sought
It curls and pulls back horizons away.

Angst born breath coats the glass,
And my ghostly palm is all that remains.
The loud, lonely beating within me
Cries for that fading, missing echo.

To want is to fail again and again
Yet understanding cannot quench.
The hand that was open and calling
Closes quietly in rage at it’s own walls.

And sheds it’s solitary tear
…for it will open once more tomorrow.


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