shaking arms
and shaking hands,
they form a sweet little picture
dark varnished on the coffee house wall.
and the stain of daytime memories,
they are strewn about the floor.
come now! sweet wayfaring soul
make the night be clean
or watch me vanish!
for i am the voice that watches,
the eyes that hear…
and in the evening-tide,
will i come
to brush aside your violet hair
and stare deep into your eyes.
i will make you mine
and adorn you with my mysterious ways
in this fashion we will walk,
vaulting, hand-in-hand
to fast bring forth the brightness
that found us here alone.
wishful of the moment’s
buried vastly beyond our sight
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 12/16/11
poems365dotcom 