She Had Tomorrow Eyes

She Had Tomorrow Eyes

How many yesterdays,
Bound with human clay
And thoughts of straw,
Were cast in broken moulds,
As the bricks of our tomorrows.

How many uttered words,
And oaths sheathed in silent prayer
And vows of implicit lies
Were squandered in haste,
As we harvested the bounty of such words.

Why was she so deeply resolute?
So passionately my friend,
In days of cooled wine and bodyheat languor
When we floated sun drenched in seedling sorrows
In amnesiac contempt of all we might recall.

My hands like blinded eyes
And enfeebled brain
Recall now, so sharp defined
So critically etched to remind
And pervade, invade, thence to enshrine.

My hands like blinded eyes
Knew her form,
That which she denounced
In erroneous false modest guise,
I kissed and touched and tasted.

My hands like blinded eyes
Possessed, yet failed to own,
Each atom of her feral being
Each nuance of her stand-alone
All manner of her wit and ways.

My hands like blinded eyes,
Failed to see
Failed to discern
The way to woo belief
And have her betrayal’s soul-sapping hurt unlearned.

My eyes like touchless hand,
Did weep for us
Weep in seeing down our years
Weep tears shed for all we would surely lose.
For my hands, nor eyes, could teach sanctuary’s art

We were to have been
In a forever moment
Entwined
We were damned to have been
Shared in mist bound epiphany
We were one anothers deepest truth.