Two sides of a coin, molded by hand,

Tossed in the air by the hand of fate

They dance, they sing,

Spiraling, and though they know it,

They laugh, they whisper,

And silently await

The moment they hit the floor—

For one then will be lost to the raven

And the other then lost to the world

Origami paper planes

Not once sent out in flight

Laid side by side with paper cranes

And folded little dragons

A painting there, a winter sky

A piece of molten colors

This place is where I come to cry

And spin tunes on brass contraptions

Old mugs of the same tea I drink

And books from the years passed

An earring with a missing link

I haven’t worn since who knows when

Origami paper planes

That one day I might test

And dirty opened window panes

Where a soft breeze floats in

Nights in the cold air

Tossing laughter back and forth

Still standing apart

This is all that we have left

Wednesday nights at six pm

I am not myself

I speak the words of others

Who don’t quite exist

They came from a book I read

And then made those lives my own