When the Answer Isn't Yet
Winter, early 2001
LJA
Waiting
Not knowing if hope
Has a home in the questions
Curling their tendrils within
Minute crevices in the heart
Like creeping vines
Capturing the shape of the thing
Yet hiding and crumbling
The living essence caught
Within the grasp of
Parasitic beauty
Hiding its truths.
When the questions
Are pulled from the face
They mask
By answers yet unknown
What will remain
Within that longing heart
So hungry for the touch of life
It accepts these creeping vines
As a cloak to hide
The nakedness of longing
To feel loved?�
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