My eyes have glazed over,
Formed cataract callouses 
That blur my vision,

Yet I see you clearly
As I did ten years past
As I did all those years between:

With fondness. 

Photograph recalls 
Of lighter days
And narrow hips

And painful experiences
Worthy to be dealt with.

If we’d stood
Shoulder to shoulder
As we ought have,

My vision would have remained
Clear as a cloudless day.

Now, we endure hyenas 
Who call themselves sisters,
Convince ourselves they are true
Whilst we endure the space apart. 

And when space closes its jaws,
Allowing togetherness once more,

I shall see you 
As you are
As I have seen you before. 

We walked 
On smooth stoned shores,
Threw stone jewels 
Of fire and clouds
Back into the sea,
Hoped someday the sea would bring us gifts in return

To heal wounds stray bullets have left behind,
Bring companions sailboats had ferried away.

Hoped our lives would not replay its horizons:
Forever rolling back into itself,
Forever caught between conflicts
It never resolves,
Caught between unmade decisions
And murky emotions,
Caught dancing 
To bittersweet mixed tapes.

I step into its waters,
Hope for enveloping embraces
That wash worries away.

Instead, 
Jelly fish stings 
Kiss bare skin,

And I lay seething,
Memory heavy on my limbs. 

If I could stay
Watching bewildered waves
Siren laugh at inconsistencies,
Accept paradoxes with ease,

Perhaps wisdom would dawn upon me,
Seagull plummet towards my fish basin chest,
Tell me that love should never lead to regret. 

I've been working on this poem for quite some time. The challenge to tell a story in fifty words appealed to me, and I might to it again sometime. For now, this is my contribution to the unattached souls of February 14th.

My life is patterned 
Off of paradoxical statements:

1.
Strive for perfection
Though perfection is unattainable.

2.
Stay content
Settle for nothing less than the best. 

3.
Wait for love to arrive
Whilst guarding the gates of your heart–

Shut them tightly against intruders,
Shut them tightly against emotional wars.

4.
Love him.

5.
Don’t.

I’ve lost the flavour
Of mundane adventures,
Forgotten their candid zest 
The same way the elders 
Lose the taste of salt on their tongues:

Progressively.

Time 
Is easy to walk through.
The road is straight ahead 
To everywhere.

Dirt crumbles beneath my wrinkled feet,
Reminiscent of yesterdays 
Lost in the stream of todays,
And tomorrows
Lost in the horizonless descent of somedays. 

Some days, the light flickers
And sight is obscured by darkness
Generated by energies lost in space:
Astronaut cries no one has ever received.

My barren branch hands
Claw at the sky,
Forming birds nest homes
That hatchlings shall never inhabit,

Claw at eagle winged counterparts 
Ravished by wanderlust,
Become a selfish hero
Cutting feathers for hats

To be worn 
Atop shimmering heads 
Stripped of protection,
Craving for elusive warmth. 

Salt from tongues 
Fall down cheeks instead,

And I 
Swallow unfamiliar exploits
Told from memory,
Attempt to recall paths 
Upon which my eyes have lingered

Before they old-film-reel fade 
Into scratchy-spaced forget,
Before cheeks are drenched with salt
For reasons I am unable to recall.