When She’s Gone

Porträt einer Prinzessin Ginevra d'Este

Listen
You will hear her story
Awake on a breath of night wind
The wings of a butterfly
In that first unfolding
Whisper the colors of her dress
As a prism of light through your window
You wave her down
when she’s gone

Even then. But what now?
Time has taught clichés
A heart truly can break
and ache
and burst
A heart can get hungry too
or greedy
or full
Maybe all at once
sometimes

Give in too late
Promise too early
Stay silent with secret dreams
Drift with thoughts like ghosts
Faded under morning light

In emptiness, that well-worn verse
If you cared…then you would
But if is a superstitious guess
An eyelash wish
A breathless unknown

to reach beyond. What to do?
These scars
Our armor
Over tender skin
The hurried answer
The question lost
Maybe all at once
sometimes

Collect the noise of the Universe
Lift your head above the chatter
Find a raw and hopeful voice
Faded under morning light
A breathless unknown

woven through the commotion
Whisper the colors of her dress
As a prism of light through your window
You still wave her down
when she’s gone

Even then.

Listen

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