Steel / words / 2011 / Sharp

March 17, 2011

When she closes her
	Mind’s eye
		She forgets her past.
			And everything.
		Caught in a twisted dream.
			I account for Her.

			It’s a broken mindset.
			But broken things
			Are meant to be fixed.
		Shifted asylum.
			Her heart is astray
A wicked wonder.
	Hearing her voice again.
		Handshake left, and right.
		Are we in your crew?
			A crew of risk.
				Typing desk.
			Her eyes hold the sunlight
			Of a million moons.
				It’s a click on that door.
				A rap tap top.
					It’s a singing blue.
					Once more.
					The foundation shakes.
				I dance its wooden spiral.
	She has such grace.
		Forgive me.
	I step out of place.
		On the outset.  
		I thought she’d be different.
		And now it’s her misty dew.
				On the outside.
					Slipping
					Down the glass slide.
					My fingers trace its lovely lines.
					My hands clamp.
						Like fish.
					A pair of Pisces they might have been.
					Sometime.
							Back then.
							And now encased in this
						Bright Tomb.
					They swim.
						Sipping the outside.
					In those
					eccentric
				dew drops.
			Yearning for concentric.
				Spirals.
				Broken Trials.
			Apart this dreary shade.
				It’s a pounding
				wandering heart that 
					wonders.
		Travels down our old dusty musty corridor.
				Wanting more.
				Don’t stop, please.
					Not just yet.
					Wander with me.
					We have so much more.
					To explore.
				A warrior’s heart.
					So inquisitive.  Demanding.
					You opened that door.
		Wanting more.
				I wish I could.
			Patience.
			The moonlight will soon turn 
		Blisters will form.
			On blinded eyes.
				Falling scales.
		Sun bathing on full-blown sails.
			Full breath 
				in the cloudy sky.
				I will 
					Soak your mind
				and
					bend your light.