Shreds: “A Smile of Naught’s Depth”

Not a day, not an hour fleeting,
Without thy constant tapping near,
Between words of circumstance, smiles fleeting,
‘Tis hard to watch myself go sheer.
I smoke fate from a merry guise,
Often envying ash, the void,
Yet already I compose songs of malaise,
And you bid me cease to hate, annoyed.
Yet little dost thou know, for years,
I’ve forgotten how to heed that call,
A greeting would suffice, so it appears,
Sometimes I think, sometimes I swear, oftentimes all.
But two lifetimes wouldn’t explain my all,
So I clothe myself in ink, perhaps wiser so,
For now I’m hidden amid cobalt thrall,
Betwixt empty lean and a choice’s flow.
Not a minute, not a fleeting breath,
Without my stubborn dialoguing near,
When perhaps a smile of naught’s depth
Would serve, for ash hath marked me clear.
For if I were a greeting, I’d be my back,
Against thy wall, in autumn’s knack.