# Wishing Well

Author: Dwale
Tags: Poetry

I don't know. You tell me.

I remember that one late August night,  
Watching the moths mob the lantern's amber  
Light, the summer wind playing with the flame,  
Your ebon hair, swaying, caressed your neck.  
I saw you swallow. I envied your spit.  
You looked upward to the wild country sky,  
The wide universe's starshine echoed  
In hazel eyes, not mine, Oh Lord, not mine.  
  
I stop to wipe my eighty-proof tears, and  
Check my pockets for the past twenty years.  
How strange, the one thing that's still the same:  
Your name inscribed on this old paper heart,  
But apart from that, I've got nothing but change.  
That's good, you know. So maybe I'll let go.  
A shining rain falls down to the stones,  
And I can't believe all the things I've done.  
Silver lights shimmer in the wishing well,  
Striving to become myself  
Without you.

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/pnGgdo2n