Broken windows

If I ever find you 

Staring out into my courtyard 

Listless and absorbed in a tangled thread of your own 

I’d like to take your soft hand

And lightly hold it 

Stroking the smoothness on the back side 

With my thumbs

Turn it over and trace every line,

course

And trail 

That your worn, younger soles have tread

And led

through somberness

Shock and grief 

I’d take your face in my hands 

Entangle my fingertips 

Through the tough hair 

on your chin 

And press my damp cheek against yours.

I watch you.

And wain 

To cradle my bones in your gentle arms 

Have you kiss my forehead 

My cracked lips 

And whisper to me slowly 

That you love me 

But 

That you care for me 

Just 

And that 

I’m not 

And that 

We are not 

And that 

You could

We could

But right now

My eyes leak 

My face hardens 

And I strain to mouth 

That I can’t understand you 

In fact, I can barely see you 

Much less feel you.

Through these broken windows.