you're the only secret I have

there is no sorrow
like the sorrow of a sunny afternoon
stretched out in the hollows of your life
where once the past preferred to play
we've now made way
for forced foundations of the future
the hour grown more than a little late
for the latter day saints of comfortable modern living

and when last we saw love
back bent
walking the fine line
crooked
he simply stared out over our heads
pointing in absolutely no direction

though the wonder of it all does not escape me
it's the unending questions
that linger longer than the answers I long for

it seems I've sunk all ships
all shapes
all sizes
when all I wanted was someone else's voice
or a face to fill my eyes
my time
my hollows

and I'm tired of asking
why couldn't it be you?

(but why couldn't it?)