Every morning when light cascades my room
eyes in a fog just waking to the morning,
I wonder about then,
curious just when
we did begin to fall apart and why
oh it always makes me want to cry.
I remember the soft moments,
fingertips grazing your cheek
lovely eyes searching my own,
and we always knew it to be known.
Our lives would, they did change
we could no longer rearrange
the beauty of our time,
oh it was truly sublime,
to hold you in my arms,
to see the passion in your eyes,
oh if not for all the alarms
one might call our desire so wise.
apersonaljourney - stories of love 