Perilous Kite

We used to write poems on cliffs so high,

Above the clouds, where the winds would fly.

You held me steady when storms drew near,

My best friend, the voice I most longed to hear.

You dreamed of the man I could never maintain,

While I wore my illusions like armor and chain.

Your hands tried to hold what was slipping apart,

A kite in the clouds with no weight in its heart.

I saw you again, like a spark in the rain,

Both tender and hollow, both comfort and pain.

The mountain we dreamed of was broken by time,

Its ridges worn smooth by the wind’s steady climb.

We could have been great if the timing was right,

Two names intertwined, but lost to the night.