Depth of Feeling
During a degree of ninety
(in the time of eighty)
small in coral and pink:
My friend,
I saw ribbons of prismatic stillness
curled in blue,
and I intended to joyfully wake
a Saturday (I think)
with you.
Yet
surfacing a new hue
you dove (a newer friend in line)
According to your mother’s whine:
It’s fine if I do stay a while
in the glassy blue
alone.
No thank you, I’m fine.
The sunlight kissed my tears
amidst chemical crystalline truth:
Such hurtful stings are shadows
in the shallow pool
of youth.
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