A Reflective Routine

One falters somewhat before a handsome face and wonder where reason halted before the onslaught of passion;

And upon that handsome face reflected confessions so deep and clandestine that your ears deafened in apprehension.

Serendipitously your time has come and you rested your head next to his ears and whispered the promises of tomorrow and forever;

Cautiously he pulled away while you slept, wondering if tomorrow hasn't already arrived in restless slumber.


And on the morrow raindrops caressed the dusty window panes of the bedroom and a chill passed by empty sheets;

A shadow that once was now lay a crumpled white bedding that marked the weight of his shoulders, the imprint of his arms and the soft indentations from his back to feet.

Your face masked the grip of pain that accompanied the silence of the day for the whispers of tomorrow died always today;

Once again you and I will falter somewhat before another handsome face and can only hope that it will one day reflect the image of love's way.