poem · 2026-08-10
Glimpses of Sun v2
I wrote this for a woman, a very particular woman who would know who she is if she ever finds my blog. I don’t think she will or if she’ll even look but who knows :shrug:. She had been texting me on multiple threads excitedly and engaged for days only to ghost after a date.
# Glimpses of Light
A current stirs beneath the wind,
a murmur in the sky.
Waves carry laughter—
honey, sugar, rain—
and something milk-sweet
fills the air.
For a moment,
the world appears
untouched by shame.
Light struggles through the pane,
finding brightness
even in the stain.
The cool air warms against my skin,
and I think:
*life could be like this.*
Only a glimmer—
a careless streak of gold
crossing a turbulent mind,
touching an older wound.
A stinging pause.
An opening
no gauze could bind,
no silence soothe.
I hold the moment carefully,
like a self-conscious thief,
afraid even hope
might make a sound.
Then questions.
The light begins to fade,
amber lingering
at the edge of haze.
The hours lengthen.
The currents slow.
One heart catches
where two had only drifted.
The moment belongs
to each of us differently.
In only one of us
does it take root.
Night grows long.
Somewhere,
a song almost begins,
but one note remains,
holding itself
against the silence.
Stray syllables escape
while twilight burns
for only one.
The song never arrives.
One last thought—
a soliloquy for two,
hope still trembling
along the strings.
Night draws close,
my only quiet suitor.
A closing glimmer.
Then darkness settles
without ceremony.
Parting words,
half-given.
A tenderness I will not chase.
A loss I can forgive.
And one last call
into the dark:
*Hey, sun—*
*thanks for the rays.*