Told from Time

Spitting back the heavy hearted
faces floating in my mind;
I have turned to the stars.
I felt my own eyes in her arms,
swallowing into pieces of a body
that used to just be a mirrored dream.
The smell of my pillow brings me to
the sunset where I at last met the eyes of joy in mine.
Looking from afar may feel good,
but only burns with the pains of a
lost tomorrow.
Being in the open arms,
with a weary head on a
strong shoulder
are more than enough to hold me
to truisms in time.
The floorboards are still warm
with the thoughts of an endless afternoon.
The glowing gaze that I see myself in
and a voice that
I have called for,
is finally by my side.
Alone at last,
hand in mine.
The sun sets a little later each day,
maybe because it is now mindful of
its own time.
By January I figured that old light would have
figured how to find itself in the night,
as I have myself.
In the endless days there is a sprawling night.
Swimming feelings in bright stars through
curtains drawn.
The triumph of joy has came to see forth the gorgeous
mind that has found mine.
I could never lose the beauty found in this room,
in the bliss of bodies and exaltations colliding.
No one can never let go of themselves
as long as there is
another morning to wake up to.