The distance of her is beginning to dull
such small mercies cannot be too lightly taken
by unteachable souls like mine
holding fast the rope anchored in time
long past the point of unraveling pull

The reluctance of him is starting to show
piece by piece like a shy child, patiently waiting
for the gaze of the looker to chance, drop,
willing only for the focus to stop
and pierce instead some minute undertow

The incandescence from them is waning a bit
not unlike the moon, sky appetite sating,
by carving a portion wider each day
then reversing to retrace the way
only to repeat the regret the heart won't forget