I think you told me
you are like
the solar system
cold on the outside,
a blazing interior.
You don’t say there is
no love for the restless
and unsettled.
You can give up
and within the cold
cup of tea, that’s left,
carry every twirl
from that
defeat with
never a sigh of
debt.
And I may break
a glass but instead
of being mad,
you bend
to drink from a
shallow creek,
more exotic than ever.
It is the surprise each
day
that makes me say
I want love
more than
wanting tomorrow.

RB 12 10 2019
Verge of a dream