Your words, my lines

I’m hard work, you said to me
Black ink pools bear rocks for sure.
New paths will be forged to set us free
I’m hard work, you said to me.
On windswept dunes it’s hard to see
The late waves power their tidal lure.
I’m hard work, you said to me
Black ink pools bear rocks for sure.

Black ink pools, you’re indelible, for sure
but concealable in the tidal flow
that comes and goes beneath my eyes
with rhythmic tug of lies, reassurance, lies.

Those waves might seem to lure you now
the power, surge and brightening foam
until the jagged rocks appear
and words alone can’t forge a new path here.

So who works hardest? The patient or demanding?
Whose painted smile keeps her near.
Perhaps too close. On windswept dunes it’s hard to see
yet I’m hard work, you said to me.

3 thoughts on “Your words, my lines

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