sincere outside melody
beauty, the thing (s)
you admire about them—
they rarely notice in themselves.
love an the ability to let go
of whatever makes you
and them
first reluctant. a refusal to pass on
what was pushed forward
by your blood.
fear, a give up
of self—even if
surrender
to another self
could crush.
time forms the matter
of memories. wishful only
for one more
tomorrow.
Stunning stuff. “Time forms the matter of memories”
This one carries a sadness, somehow. And a longing. Great job triggering emotions with your poem.