Hooked

Flitting from endless
rows of neat lamp posts
To disparate shadows,
i wander
like a dying star in a fading
galaxy slowly spinning
out
of control. Glancing at
each suggestion of
fairy dust, its glitter
–as it always does-
reminds me of
the candle she places
at the open window still.
She is probably
sleeping on the sofa, hands and
hair astray, faded dress crumpled and sad,
and yet.

i walk on, trying to find
belonging in the
wilderness and its
golden promises.
For all that she can be
is too small for my soul,
and all that it is
far too big for my heart -
i believe in everything
but my own redemption.
Always
i will search
without finding, see without
learning, cry and rage
without growing.

The candle
will burn down someday…