the ice has taken hold between the two passages,
carrying the crystal white burden of dreams
and the languages of intrinsic qualifications –
to choose the fog over mist, slush over dirt,
and to keep frozen into stone all deals upturned,
all wishes parted by a moment’s touch –
lost is the sudden acquaintance with sensation,
I am near the end, I am at the edge, always dazed,
glorified by the fear of tumbling down – just the bliss
of never seeing the light
for it’s hard to dream with open eyes, for it’s hard
to see through your lips where you reside –
who ever said that this mosaic of understanding is fulfilling?
that blithe sun has devoured all else.
you are the halo, the shadow, the skin to my desire, the symbol
to this paradigm of pain,
and I keep up my silent vigil,
Linking it up with The Tuesday Platform at With Real Toads.