Textures

Textures

Nostalgia swathed in leather
Weaved subtle through soft knits
Regrets lost in the ether
… and found again in fits
Confusion in the syntax
In statements, questions framed
Such answers raise their drawbacks
With fears, christened, named
Doubts both named and numbered
Cataloguing hopeful finds
Charted maps encumbered,
with games played out in minds
In memories of transit
Maiden journeys, first debuts
Too clouded, crowded... transmit
To transmit, broadcast true
Too long in the wilderness
Out of practice, out of touch
Yearning to be caring less,
… and wanting it too much
Like cookies snapped on keyboards
Decorated by fair hands
Pictures burnt, in hard drives stored
Lost amidst time's sands
The hourglass, it takes it all
… sometimes we miss our turn
Yet every time that name is called
The memories, they burn
In phantom legs of journeys,
with ghosts long left behind
In foreign tongues and turn keys,
the social gears bind
Crossing paths in shifts of time
Hands clumsy, face dull, mute
With allergies to natures rhymes,
and sneezes left acute
With chances sharp, departed, blown
Still the soul depends
On conversations started, sewn,
that never weaved an end
Ones we cut from scripts inferred
Afraid to take the fall
The answers we might not prefer
... preferred to none at all
With fabrics textured manifold
Truth silenced... regrets stacked
Regardless of the lies we're sold,
in wool so white... and leather black