Willows

You faced me with a smile,
Healthy and strong;
The picture I'd paint,
If I were an artist,
And not a grim scribbler;

You wanted a promise;
I remember the pressure of it
Storming my shore, and dying
Against my wall;
No Achilles to save the day;

The rainy afternoons we spent
Tearing each other apart;
The nights we sculpted perfection;
And the mornings, when love actually came,
Like dusty sunlight on an antique frame~