Oh my dear, I do see your silhouette;
Sad as it seems your tears steadily drip,
crashing to the floor but oh so quiet.
My love, I do fret I cannot quite rip this
puppeteer of pure pain behind your eyes.
“Come closer my love,” but she stood quite still.
Though the tears become puddles as she cries,
the dark fears cannot break desire’s will.
Oh how her shadow now fades glowingly,
broken promises pry pleasure from pain.
She smiles finally and, knowingly
in her eyes no more tears; her sky no rain,
for she’s found solace in realizing
the grace of having a heart still beating.
Copyright © Sara Wernick | Year Posted 2018