The aching legs of a walking mind, Sheltering from sudden shocks you find, That let down friends are right to grumble, And attribute blame to your feet that stumble.
Tripping over a thought You take it And make it Into art Often you lose the meaning But it's still true For you At the start Fearfully unloading And tearfully decoding
Smiling in the wine's light I'm guessing the harmonies sleepily Hoping you believe me When I say those words And kiss you. Tracing the lines on my palm And seeing you differently
There are two voices in this poem as I wrote it after a conversation with a friend about our most recent relationships. We were surprised to find how similar they had been.