The Year Gone By - Elise

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break the water tension on our bed of dreams
to see life glistening above us
in the pinprick brilliance of a night’s sky;

wake from our nonsensical desire for the sunrise
to burn stars to dust,
to build us again with a new, rhythmic dawn;

believe the brassy, well-oiled minute-hand of time
when it whispers in your smile:
the world cannot wait for a perfect moment;

live the wants and needs we blew on a birthday cake
before they disappear into
the mass of “what I could have done”s

swirling in the land-locked air of the past.

December blooms on a tired, floating heart and a feeling that we are one year further from
where we were and one year closer to who we’ll be. Each second holds fragments of our
sights, our selves, our souls. Why wait for a burning sky of potential, when each moment can
be a sunrise if it burns in your heart?