with a carnival balloon in hand
and paper banjos playing softly beside the river he walked home,
to released the fictional helium hope
of ever finding his own huckleberry friend
and quietly placed his love in the museum of his soul.
a soul torn in half
both cold and broken
takes pictures in the dark
of yesterday’s closing door.
painting darkness in blues,
a beautiful broken soul
touches the places we won’t walk.
he waited and watch for love
losing soulmates along the way
you breathe out,
i breath in,
our souls collide
and transform an empty canvas
an unfinished soul
burned love letters
on a stack of beautiful struggles