Portraits

Light filters through the musty attic window

And you step over shattered glass

Painted portraits stand to one side forgotten

And books have collected dust

I run my hands over their pages

Smeared with Time and neglect

You gently trace the golden frames

Deteriorated by unseen hands

Your eyebrows pull together

When your eyes fall upon a tear

But your lips tug upwards

When they alight on vermillion painted smiles

For all the world you could be a time traveler

Remarking upon old familiarities

Brushing hands with lost friends

You seem so very old up here

Like you’ve seen a thousand worlds

I can’t help but feel so young

When those ages show themselves in your eyes

I wonder if you’ll soon go home

And meet these portraits once more

Their subjects warm and moving

Fate was cruel to deliver you here

For I know myself too selfish

I don’t think I could stand to let go of you

Even if I must

I think on how awful it must be

To see a million stars born and dead

While all the while not returning to those you wish to see the most

It’s a fact that everything costs something

And perhaps that was the price you paid

The universe would lay at your feet

But you must leave these portrait sitters behind

The sun is setting outside the window

And you turn saddened eyes to me

“I really did love them,” you whisper

“You have to believe me.

It was almost too much to ask,

But…”

I still wonder what you meant

With that broken word

Too many years of wishing

That I will never know

You pay a price for everything

And you double it for Time