Meeting
Through a track of year's
end
I came to your door,
now pink instead of green -
we sat, the wine twinkled,
as, for a thousand clear moments,
the light shone through
our discourse.
We saw through our disclosures
with a few short laughs
and we parted
with looks of some regret,
perhaps for the singularity
of our midnight encounter,
and for me not knowing
how far to dance to reach,
to save you - from something
that I hardly know.
Evolution
and afterwards index
h0me