Picture Drawer
There are times,
when I walk through
the broken glass
of you, me, here and now,
that I think back
to the before.
To that long haired
Mexican girl
and the nights
we spent entangled;
untangling our need
and desire.
Of course I know
I fought with her too
but those battlefields
are green and over grown;
I will love you
in the morning
and we will clean up
the mess we have made.
We will share a cup of coffee
and I will smile at you
through the tiny particles
that glow in the sun streams.
But for now
my mind needs to flip
through old photographs
and wonder about things
that never really existed.
SMG
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