Masked

days don't really name themselves but I'll start off by naming this one "us" in the courtyard last night I can't really phrase the look on your face that somehow seemed to crave what I knew as my soul but you only knew as my body to be honest.. you... you. . . you're the type of soil that dreams are made of just enough to retrace the memories of what I expected of you and I just below the moon it's amazing how the wind always forces things to return and... your love was like the shade rotating around me as if they were clock pointers accounting the hours I've spent just ruminating upon thoughts of you I have felt things that I never even thought that I could feel and yet somehow... despite the tears despite this sweet desolation... somehow... the best interpretation of my heart was birthed through the cracks of my brokenness but at least you.. i have someone to dream about... you... I'd like to wear the memories of the deepest parts of yourself you allowed me to explore like a mask on my face and define it as my smile ~thembekile kilay deh'poet tsaoane