dolled up, and now
we have nowhere to go
we sit quietly on the bench outside
smoking slowly and looking at the snow
falling lightly…
and as it does
we relate those descending flakes
to the dwindling fire in our souls
we exhale and rise
savoring the spice in our mouths
unable to bear the stillness,
the reason, we associate to our feeling bound
we tell ourselves the same unending story
of our never being found
but we’re still compelled to wait for one
who might rewrite the pages and astound
we stumble into darkness
enduring the fight between our heart and head
in search of some hope to guide us
and a certain touch to make us feel again
but those descending flakes
falling all around us only remind us
of our cold souls and our lost faith in
the saying that love conquers all
