Today I lived not, my dear,
Time was spent, my throat so tight,
Dragging me back near
Your home of quiet fights.

Within me lies and airport of wax,
And though I know you’re not alone,
Forgive me, should I crack,
For tonight I long to moan.

Even though the glider dips,
Its wings now drip with glue,
Your breath, a gale that rips,
Leaves me unsure where to pursue.

Today I’ve failed again, take aim,
For my glider does not soar,
But if perchance it soothes your blame,
I’ve kept your picture near my core.

Marco Delrio

Waxen Glider

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