Rust

A poem about affections that can't seem to go anywhere but the past.

May I call it love now
that it's fated for dust?
Only now have I learned
that gold also rusts

I know your hands rest in another's
but it hasn't stopped my pining
If nothing else the fact
only highlights your shining

I've not witnessed such beauty
or such light in so long
Nor have I heard a voice
that makes every word a song

It hurts thinking of all your boons
and how lucky another man is
to spend so much time with you
Now I can only wish

he is as sweet to you
as I wish I could be
I wonder how pious and true
I needed to be for such a treat

Author's Note

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