659. 4/10/16 (#651)
A reassurance that I was wrong,
A confirmation of my idiocy
I knew all along but refused to believe,
And again my mind brushes through
The out of reach strands of hair that frame
The silken skin of her face.
And once more my blood is running
On imagined heartbeats that rush
Upon the lips I know
Will blur and fade from mind
With the knowledge I have been believing
In faith I held not in myself,
But in another's ability to surprise.
But I am wrong, I am foolish,
I know her too well to expect her to change,
So I will not,
And I will wipe the watercolour from my mind
With black ink.