Between now and then,

is where I always find myself.

Dwelling in the significant space,

like a detective researching clues.

Or a butterfly,

how it takes time fluttering,

to find a perfect landing place.

That glorious in between time:

I held you in my heart, smiling,

mine in yours like a cloud,

secure in her sky.

 

Blue is love then.

Forever, good or hurting,

I’m afraid—

The present is Queen!

All around us, offering,

everything spectacular.

Sometimes, I take her in,

a sweet, refreshing breath,

prepared to leap

into a gratifying future.

Then I remember:

In love—

The way it pretends so beautifully,

perfection exists.

 

It doesn’t.

But happiness can be a lifelong dance,

if willing…

I think to reach my hand back,

grab you in like a handful

of fresh cut wild flowers.

Because what if…

Hope is hellish that way,

damned if you do or don’t.

So, the Queen waits.

She calls out like a magnificent-single-star,

on a clear summer night:

Here I am!

What are you waiting for?

Little deer,

caught in the headlights,

wondering if you’ll cross-over,

unharmed.

Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte

©2012 All rights reserved

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