Thinly From the Eyes.

The longing of a beautiful soul
is foul weather –

I, I imagined myself
immersed by the mountain side,
peonies and the memory of his heartbeat
my picnic basket –

Once upon a time,
about a month before I became a woman
with a bean in her stomach,
I, I could wrap my hands around his neck
coquettishly – a maiden about unwrap;

This an anchor of my dream,
simplicity, a man I like
and he likes me –

He asked me to wait for him at home,
the home his grandfather built
the day he’d met his grandmother,
the home I painted yellow inside despite
the sunlight always seeping through –

I, I waited… perhaps he forgot.
While waiting, his brother’s eyes
the colour of stale moon told a story –

The longing of a beautiful soul
is muse’s mood –

A story of man hiding his love,
he first met her in a train
reading his favourite book;
unknowingly – the love his brother took.