It is as if I am forever looking through a mirror, dimly lit, seeing only half of my reflection. The ‘now’ is the ‘not yet.’ The ‘not yet,’ lives in the now. How else can I describe this life of muted colors, smells, textures, and sounds I put up with? I know there is more than even the deafening ocean breaking its sticks over stones. I am hopeful I will not remain dry. I am hopeful that someday I will not languish. I will not anguish over the browns which settle into champagne flutes. I imagine there will be citrine yellow, optimal pinks, violet lavender eyes; imperial swimming pool skies. There is more on the other side of this mirror. There is a who.
look in the mirror and
long for more than broken glass~
loiter here beyond