hire

motionless, today
another honest augustine illusion
basking in the rays of its
frankly shrugged confusion
the hearts reflected in those
needy eyes
of mine
boring into themselves
by the light of the mirror.

black hair. it's black, unlike the glossy hard smiles,
but more the betwixt tooth gaps;
some eyes like tiny tiny
plaintive sighs
rove and roam across the room,
scratching at the paint peeling on the wall,
quiet pinholes
absorbing light,
making sense of this
myriad of glorious sight.
i see the face of a newborn child,
asking for love in its smile,
holding back a hint of surprise.
locked tight, rigid, firm, free,
a frame i think of
tight against me
with a hint of her breath on my
still-beating chest,
a silver little laugh,
a quiet joke told in mutters
that makes me chuckle, and spill
some of my coffee on her shoulder.

what two roads may never meet,
but for the wonder we endure?
and yet i know just what i'd miss
if i came knocking at your door.