TAPESTRY

 

It is like emotions are something
you wear on your sleeve, he said,
picking at threads of sadness, trying
to pry them from the fabric
of the moment, never understanding
they were the warp of his existence,
joy and laughter, compassion
and empathy the weft.
She said, that is only
an illusion, and you know
that illusions are not real.
She held his hand, smoothed
the fabric, tucking away
the odd thread, hoping that he
wouldn’t pull at the selvage
and be forced to watch the
happiness of their relationship
unravel before her eyes.

TWINKLE, TWINKLE LITTLE STAR

He says what he wants most
is to own a star, outright, no sharing.

She says that he already does,
at least a part of one,
and he should be happy with that.

He laughs at her, and reminds
her that stars are huge, and
even a part of one would
light the room and his life.

She says she
can see them everywhere
and he could to if he
would just look carefully.

He says she is just
making noise to quiet him.

She says all it took
was a big bang and much time.

He glows when he hears this.