I thought that you might say it but you didn’t
I thought that you might say it, but you didn’t.
You won’t. A sentiment misred
then stutters, useless, like a dampened flint.
No fingers twined, no saccharine endearment
but bated breath and bitten tongues, instead.
I thought that you might say it, but you didn’t.
The forest floor keeps quiet, nascent
growth emerges from its littered bed
then stutters, useless, like a dampened flint.
We two exist, we age, adjacent,
and your hands cradle someone else’s head.
I thought that you might say it, but you didn’t.
The flicker of a sideways glance’s glint
dims and surges, threatens to stop dead
then stutters, useless, like a dampened flint
Fortune abandons the impatient.
Resolve aims true and straight ahead
then stutters, useless, like a dampened flint.
I thought that you might say it, but you didn’t.
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