Mona Lisa envies her smile,
with its unique forever melting snowflake,
a frozen fossil containing all possibilities.
I stand beside her like a powerless ghost,
wanting to terrify, shock, haunt, shake her
into motion. Would she run towards me?
or jump into an abyss of icy light?
She can fly anywhere once she jumps.
But if I jump there, I'll die.
I must just stand here waiting,
feeling the passive anger of someone
who can't understand why an ill loved
one doesn't simply heal, return
to vigor, rejoin life,
knowing full well that illness and healing don't
comply with our wishes. They're partners
who conspire to inflate our love.
But, I'm not sure exactly how to love her.
I'll try being patient and kind,
I'll let her be, wherever she wants.
I hope she chooses me when she wakes up.
I hope she remembers.
(for Poets United.)