I come to you seeking refuge
from my heart,
and the point of being.
I need velvet pouches
of diamond dust wisdom- –
your splintered moon’s
profound treasure- -profound
measure of all the right words,
sentimental and sound enough
to wrap my heart around.

Cold- –
shining sun passes
quickly giving way to twilight.
I might not wait for words
spilling from a splintered moon.
I have no cloak for protection
from the war of heart
versus mind- -mind
versus soul.  I’ve done the math,
a thousand splintered moons
have passed since purpose
escaped my grasp.

I don’t want empty words
of reason’s reasoning
on excuses, or the proper
seasons for making love.
– -I come to you
seeking refuge from my heart
and the point of being
in my skin.  I need
a cloak of protection
to swathe my inner child in.
She’s waiting for answers and sweets- –
needing a reason for being,
beyond- –
           simply being.

Copyright 2010, by Suzie Ashby.
Photograph a family photo, Copyright 2010,
by Suzie Ashby.

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