unbecoming

When someone slips a notch or two 
From everything to nothing new 
When presence fills with keening lack 
More drifting off than coming back 
When someone knew you like yourself,
it's like you've lost yourself as well. 
Important parts you'd given them 
That none can mend or break or tell,
except this once-surprising one. 

Since only they saw that in there.
Caught that angle, wove that light, 
saw the music, had to share.

Such things are
always all surprise.
From catch, to keep,
to wise unfurl.

You'd think
you'd be surprised to reach 
the ends of it! In fraying whirl,
in settling and trickle out to drabs
and drips, but
no. Not so.
It's still the fact
of it at all 

that fills me with surprise,
you know.