Smokerings

SMOKERINGS If she wanted to stay he would make her a place, for he loves ev'rything that she is, and he'd willingly give all the world and the stars for her love--if they only were his. But he likes it alone, and in silence he knows, if he wants, he can talk to the moon, or hear voices at bars, or the children he loves, and if wanting to go--he'll go soon. Or to stay if he choose, for the night is still young, but she's there, and he's wanting to say all the words in his heart--but he's holding them back and the night is much colder than day. So he goes to someone who's no danger to ways though he smiles, he is really not there and he wants to forget, but he wants to live on, if she stays or she goes, he will care. And the one he is with sees the love in his eyes, and she knows it's not hers anyway, but the ones' who was late, and the one who will go, and the one he will never let stay. If he asks and she stays, he'll go off the deep end, and he knows she loves silence--as he; and she stays for a while, til the silence is deep, and the end is the end that must be. But she looks at the floor when he wants her to see, and she goes when he wants her to stay, but the words are not there, and he watches her go, with the thought that it must be this way, but he smiles in his heart--for he's known her at least, and he's loved--and has found love is good, and the end that he feared, he prevented in life, though he wonders if he ever should. Though the journey is long--he'll look back on her face, and he'll think, many times, there it goes! he will always regret; for it's always alive, she is part of his life, and he knows. All the others who see--feel the same for their own, and they wonder why he doesn't try, but it's smokerings they see; or a bird in their hand that is wanting to fade in the sky. And the sky will embrace ev'rything in the end, all the things that we see are a mask, and the smokerings that fade to the will of the sky are in love--and the sky didn't ask. © Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet