The Common Man

Lovers come and go; over the years there have been many
…more or less.
Skipping stones across the water while a turning tide
is like sailing into the wind,
but it can be the challenge that makes it all worth it;
the proverbial chase or dance.

At the end of the day when the sunlight begins to set and darkness;
a familiar cloak, wraps itself metaphorically around me
I ease into a place of comfort as shadow players dance
and pose on the walls of my cocoon.
I wear rose colored shades, they make
the visuals easier on the eyes, as they sway.

A fluffy white feather bed cushions my fall
like sea foam waves floating in the air to my delight.
My head rests gently on pillows filled with all that was salvaged
decades ago when my wings were trimmed mid way
…baby angels remain my faithful guardians.

And when dreams seep into all the spaces,
between the words not spoken
and those that should not have been;
I worry I’ve said too much.
Shared to many thoughts; shared too much of myself
– secrets told.

Words spoken are as dangerous
as putting a confession in writing;
unlike fingerprints – silence in the touch.
The mapping of your body and mine,
there really is no need to speak.
That’s not what either of us came here for…
we know this to be one truth unspoken.

I have worn my silence like my aloofness;
always noticed, but never attainable by the common man.

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