The Unknowning

Whispered nothings reflect off windows

in search of an image of you to land

They no not where to go, blowing gently off the

currents of the wind through the window

and escape into the golden light of the day

Whispered nothings, crying tears of regret

for they have not landed on their target

they have fled into the surrounding air

to gently float amongst other sweet nothings

and words of love that have no one to land on

And so my whispered nothings float 

with no one to caress and with no reply

till they land, on the unknowing