the knight who doesn't ride here

Winds and whimsy
skip on the riverbed
of our conversation,
swaying our beliefs
lulling an emotion.

The current is regretful
It is no longer avoidable
In our silence it is growing.
I can't look you in the eye anymore
without your turning away.

We move in lines defined
I want to cross one.
Do I mother you too much?
We avoid an embrace
fearing hearts magnetized
will deny separation
Do you suffer for touch?

Am I just a siren
with your name on my tongue?
calling from the water's edge -
"We could meet in the middle."
But we speak the same color
and there is no definition.

So I put a foot in the pool of purple swirling muck
and paint a green streak of you.
But you should know-
tomorrow I want to be alone,
yesterday I didn't care anymore,
now you are the song, the steady gallop
corroding my very existence.

You see the rust and smile still
but you'll love me more in reflected
moonlight that masks my age,
those lines
that intrigue and frustrate you.

One long year you've been revered,
as the knight who doesn't ride here
still lurking in the shadows
on the banks of the river
with a sly twist of the neck
you pull the rein and turn
and Yes. I know.