And I Write

I see the curve between your eyebrows,

And the pale shadows beneath your lurid eyes,

The grin you put on, tired yet a clear facade,

And the best I can do is muse.

I gaze at the horizon with you by my side,

And feel your hands twitching to convey something your

Lips cannot; the way you adorn a sense of complacency,

And the best I can do is muse.

I notice the mundane look on your face,

And the contrasting light in your eyes

The ruffled hair and its unspoken mysteries,

And the best I can do is muse.

I glance at your subtle dismissal, Of all the

Incessant questions peopls have for you

I try to discern the smile playing around your lips,

And the best I can do is muse.

What do you feel? When your eyes collide with mine,

What races through your head, faster than a bizarre dream

Do I blind you like you do me sometimes,

And the best I can do then is muse.

What lies behind, the few words that you choose to speak,

Which have the power to make or break my day

And why, oh why, do you choose silence when so many revert to chaos,

And the best I can do is muse.

I’m baffled, and disconcerted,

And I do what I best can. And do you know?

What really happens, is I muse and I ponder,

And the only thing left to do is write.

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4 thoughts on “And I Write

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