The Bazaar

There exists a bazaar,
claiming pieces of you
I believed were mine.
I shiver at the edge of your laughter – 
this laughter that is a universe
you never invited me to. 

How the lights about you
could never warm me;
how the depth of my yearnings
never reached you.
My poems lingered waves
never seeming to crawl
onto all your head-banging. 

My meanings
only pretty from a distance – 
in love, I shrunk a shadow.
The light from the bazaar
kept sweeping me away from you.
And yet I have been waiting.