Misha

line on line
to recognize
consider why
i'm back to try
or why
a writer's mind
would stop --
write nothing
week by week
for fear
of losing
sights
as clear
of choosing

nights
will end
and then
he's back
to start
to send
resend
relax

a woman
far
too beautiful
too young
to be
considering

but waste
is made
when might
i trade
a million lines
and words
replayed
for something
like
the sky
at night
too vast
to try
reiterating

saving time
is fine
when
i'm alone
and old
it's wise
that
i
resign
my eyes
to flickering
behind
a piece
of skin
a piece
of life
could
i please
step down
from
my silent strife
for
long enough
to please
her
in some tiny way?

to find
to realize
the day
was gone
the night
replied:
'i'm glad
she sleeps
too late to find
to picture her face
eyes resigned
to safety
quietly
reminding
why i tried --
her beauty is relentless
fast
and blinding
gentle smile
is shy
a little unrefined'

my heart
reclining
speaks
in simpler words --
it could
be hers --
for finding