Paper Hotel: Poetry

Attic of My Mind

Thurs, Sept 14

Today,
I pass some sign on the wall
that reads,
"When all seems lost,
hope is what remains."

You suddenly popped up
in my mind, as if you were a newfound
insight.
Somehow, your face still blushes me
to this day,
though we're strangers,
barely known.

It's kind of funny; I noticed you first,
the privilege to allow my eyes
to study your face before you knew mine
existed.

In the portrait of your sight,
a glimpse of eyes dwells in a pool of honey,
a cast of warm, subtle rays of
light.
I dissolve,
so precious, so alluringly drawn.

I would trade my entirety to look into them
once more.

You're like some passionate skeptic,
tinged with innocence,
diverse in complexity,
all in one.

You've captivated my eyes now;
I fixate on you
in every moment of
everyday.

And now I'm alphabetizing
my files,
placing you at the back of
my stacks.

Tucking your face
into some scribbled, scrawled
tissue lined box
of old memories,
wondering someday,
will it be lost?

I've been keeping track of
who I've been, of the passage of
time.

Now time, is a vagrant
slumbering past, lingering
somewhere
In the attic of my mind,
laughing at my expense.

Time chuckles at me.

You see, it's silly to think, composing
my correspondence
will ever
cause you to notice
the delicacy of
each word
conveyed for you.

So, I lie in solitary
isolation,
with the lingering essence of you
in my thoughts,
longing for your presence to reach,

because I remembered,
I remembered
that day you
told me "When all seems lost,
hope is what remains."