We built sand castles
and around us children
walls of old fortresses
were tumbling down.
But the sand held on
to dreams and truths
till we let go the grains.
Till we watched sand be smoke.
Around us grown up lies won over,
dark clouds emerged and
later from the sea
a cold mist came to chase us home.
All was gone now,
but the sun could still be felt
in the palms of our hands.
In the depth of the moment.
Meanings changed after what happened,
words seemed the same
but they were no longer exact.
The dictionary needs a dictionary.
The word for love stopped describing it,
and pain, what is pain.
As a Capricorn, I have Scorpio rising.
This means something, so they tell me
but I am not sure what.
The words are mediocre reflections
of general common notions.
Hidden meanings keep us thinking.
Maybe all poetry should rhyme to satisfy,
there ought to be a standard,
I want so much to reach you. So I try.
Somewhere in the middle, or the start,
or in the end perhaps, of all words is the word you.
It is all words. The heart.
What is the meaning of you? How
I meant to be a friend, a “you” as well,
but somehow “you” means more now.
You mean more now. Again the truth has bent.
Trust had my latest attention
while, like them all, you went.