What if it was you!
Not the mare reflection on glass;
Not the breathless blink
of a wandering stranger's past?
The pane holds no ghost,
nor thy frostbitten eye,
Yet trembles with echoes
no hand that can untie.
You stood in the subtle hush
where the silence is fought,
Where time hangs still
like smoke on the tip of thought.
Your name was merely
a whisper unspoken in rooms;
Where light forgets faces
and shadow resumes with horror.
What if it was you!
An ache in the desolate frame,
The hand was reaching back
through the guiltless eternal flame!
No clock accords for you
in the celestial mirror's eye,
Only the hush could ask not why?
You might have danced
Around the arms of despair,
Or wept with the dust
On the corners of care.
But now — no breath,
no pall to undo —
Just glass; just words.
What if it was you!
With💙
@chrysanthemum