Lances

I see your whole life stretched out in front of me—

A wide, empty road;

Light glimmers,

Skips rock to rock

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The sun, golden

as she reaches to hide herself beneath the horizon;

“Don’t go,”

I yearn;

But the clock beckons,

And the sun knows best.

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I know, why- you are,

I know, how- you became;

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I know the feel of your hand patting mine-

know the sound of your laugh

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Breathe in, breathe out;

Thin air- crisp and full

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I want to stay here… want to go…

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The wind lashes at my face;

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I know the sting of you turning away,

I remember

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I know what it feels to chase the sun;

To beg her to be mine

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I see her only here and there,

Glint on gravel again—

Too swift to catch,

Too fleeting to hold,

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Too punishing to trust.

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I know what it feels to be

Abandoned here,

Pleading

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Sunlight fractured on my face;

Taunting me as

she pulls her lances

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Down into the ground;

Down past the earth;

Around to somewhere new—

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The sinking chill of a long, familiar winter.

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