I say that I am not a child
Yet I fall
As though my shoelaces were untied
Reaching for your hand
I say that I am hopeful
Yet I fall
As though the past remembers otherwise
Reaching for your hand
I know my grasp
Can be heavy and indulgent
You see my eyes
Lids like storm shutters
I say I am lucky
Yet I fall
As though the word spoken will change
Your hand in mine
Why am I falling
No comments:
Post a Comment