Elevated

I miss when

you would hint at reality,

slyly sneak in what your

heart was saying, indirectly

covered safe in your

reflecting, shining, rational

skyscraper of reason and logic. Emotion

was weakness, your eyes said,

holding yourself in with steel

and concrete silence.

I miss your heart’s lovely,

simple, broken song, the

chords that hold you

together and break that

glassy mind apart.

(but I cannot ask you to be that weak for me.)