by Arthur Kayzakian
I am thankful for the cake between us,
gently slicing the sweetness of solid white,
the plates of my memories slide into cracks.
What is love when it binds into the prayer
of what it does not know, isn't it dangerous
to feel what you cannot see? The physicality
of your presence is only a practicality of circum-
stance, there is an invisible you before there is you.
I fell for the force field that mysteriously,
incessantly glows about you. I sit with family,
that loves to forget about their first charm.
The one that got away--we all have one.
I am grateful for all I am, to know
that I love what I cannot see,
the invisible idea of you.
Last updated June 15, 2011