Fabricated
Caress of the breeze,
reminded me why
escape was a requirement.
An eternal gratitude
which for a still shutter-framed moment
made me more
than I was before.
As it froze, solidifying
an accumulating tear
it dawned,
the realisation that
this woman is three-dimensional,
much more than vapour
dissipating like morning dew
from heating stone.
When I look
beyond those clouds
which enshrouded you
I die a little;
because all you stood for
was fabricated.
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it is disappointing to see someone’s true nature after the shroud falls away. lovely write, shan.
ouch….that last bit carries a sting…to live a life fabricated makes me think of life as a lie and what a sad one that would be…
so hair down eh? smiles.
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