over.cast

finite articulated outlined forms

are no longer sacred. they may be one thing today

and another, tomorrow.

our love is murky we cannot see the bottom.

the light takes on form, passing through.

my love for you is imperfect. overcast.

it never changes.
we can touch the sky.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s