Love moves far too many strings
like truths that only lies can bring.
Tumbling in after the other like acrobats,
reaching out by memory to catch the other.
The night sounds are in a harmony,
answers from a call made long ago in the dark.
Dance with one another.
Cherish the whole collection.
Tote their shadows loosely, without expectation,
and let the world heal before the strings grow barbs and reflect something altogether different.
© 2016 Mark Richard Prime