Maker of Beautiful Gifts

I have forgotten
What her laughter
Evoked in me

I don't remember
The song of
Her voice

Nor do I recall
The look on her face
When I disappointed her

I am building my own nests now
My own beautiful little things
Weaving little baskets of light
For something else to slip away
And drown in

Building strongholds
Building bridges
Repairing those burnt
Those deconstructed
Out of curiosity

Sharpening arrows to pierce
Through flesh that
Isn't just a memory
As she is now

So that one day,
I can cull
My own disappointments
Without those faces
To drown in