In her universe,
thoughts stalk liquid eyes;
a ballet, fluidly crossing
between the actualized and conceived.
Nothing truly materialized,
always on the brink
she reaches for a hand
removed from feeling.
Laughter falls softly on her lips,
compliments softer still;
in the essence of what is,
there is only a beating,
unified with the words;
Images of what should be, but isn’t,
capture her waking dreams,
visions slanted by hopes unrealized.
There are few words of solace
found on these lips;
compassion detached at the heart
long before the conversation began.
It thrashes against stone;
searching for a kinder used
vessel to create a home.
Still, I listen,
forcing a smile.
Hoping, the jaded cast is muted
by the gentle glow of moonlight.
such a softness ~ and sadness ~ melancholic almost but still able to exude the gentle smile ~ underneath the surface ~ hurt and pain ~ hoping for nourishment and soothe from the glow of the moon ~ ever hopeful for scars to heal ~ beautiful Ranee ~ Lib ~ @libithina
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