Box of Mess

The blank stoic face seems permanent, unchanging.

Only you can hear the breathing, like a gush

of water from up high.

Like those moments when, the sky lets go of

its worries and anxieties.

But you know better and, if you listen closely

to her skin, if you feel her moans,

then you'll know.

Then you will let her go.

The road you are in, is only as wide as you

it goes only to one direction - always heading towards

one destination, you.

Love takes a while to arrive; but so whimsical

that it can leave so fast.

Only then you will know, so let her go.

Because her blank stoic face only brightens at the sight of you.

Only smiles when your scent is near.

Only hopes and dreams when you touch her hand.

Once you know, let her go.

For a moment, she will stand exactly where you will leave her.

Permanent, unchanging.

Or so it seems.

In standing still.

She heals.

So when you know, let her go.