Sonnet

[falcongrrl]

Strand by strand, I weave imperfect likeness;
Spin skeins of color over dark despair.
Never capturing essential brightness
Embedded in your captivating stare.
Though I trade my worth for words with strangers,
I lack skill to impress you with these arts.
We two are too acquainted with the dangers
Inherent in revealing opened hearts.
So let me quench my words in waves of silence,
Washing onto modulating shores,
Vanishing into a distant sky—-hence
Disrupting calm existences no more.
Yet, words leap forth from my betraying hands
To dart, like birds across the shifting sands.

CAB
7/7/04