In discarded doorways of disregard,
what did they say to you?
did they declare the moon, as it was,
so rounded, tho if to circulate your luminous orbital existence
And misused moments, did one
wait, waspfully, wanting as I did, I do,
did you answer them kindly, non hesitant,
unlike my crying calls, commanding recognition.
Or were they, the waiting courtiers, as if
patients attending prescribed diagnosis of peril,
in awe of one’s masterful skills, you there,
with your scalpel, carving crevices in tenuous hearts.
This poem can be read on poetry.com along with my other works-http://www.poetry.com/users/13897