Wisteria vines

I have lost
ability for agile speech and
finding meaninglessness in things mundane
and have infused a sense of
dainty religiosity
tempered with aromatic musings
into a life that is worth living, worth falling for,
but never lived and never felt

And in the process of this arduous acquisition
of missing pieces that were perhaps overlooked, perhaps simply
cast aside,
somewhere alongside winding roads of poetry and
broken promises buried underneath snow-covered pavements,
I went searching for severed seasons and veiled reasons
ones that no longer visit us and steer clear of
our hesitant conversations, always tainted now
with a false sense of sincerity, the kind that
creeps alongside wisteria vines
and abandoned dreams