the thought of other dimensions makes me
covered in blue for a second
paints me in slow motion
i can run; but they will run faster
they will know what i never did
we will both clash in the ways we are wiser
the one who stayed and the one who left

it is to look into a glass box at people
When the glass box does not exist
It is hollow like the shell of
A crab who has long left,
Like the love of a
Love that has been since long loved
It is to wonder what bridges the vast canyon
From you alone to them laughing;
It is to ask and to become the buzzing question of
what is so wrong that we cannot do this?
(you)

It is to eye into a glass and
realise you do not know what should be there
It is like a wonder that has no
where to be and nowhere to go
like the awe of a new morning
that quickly vanishes with harsh night
It is to ask what must be causing headache
it is to ask what must be causing heartache
It is to question why to try in a land where
the only person you know is
(you)

Pristine waters along the new morning
Eating away at the shore’s lips
Licking the grains of sand that stray
Into the dark ocean
Crystals of colour floating in the sea
Aligning upon foamy waves
Never unmoving, forever free

To be the heart buried in forty minutes;

I commit the stars above as permanent defects,

in my eyes that shimmer in the amber afterglow.

All to wish for is;

someone to match my fingertips as silently as

the waves run to the beach and

the ocean caresses the sands.

beauty is
afterglow on a face you
        want to bridge the         gap        to
a rickety bridge that holds on by old poles
strings that tether to the
connected ground

beauty rises;
       in wings flying
            beauty is like the sun spreading
it reaches like
              writhing vines up to the
    newly sprinkled sky

beauty flies;
          blown by the high winds and
    it’s in the leaves that have fallen;
beauty is in giving life, love
      and beauty breeds in the
              silence of the resting

the silence of the lived

beauty sleeps
in the amber painting the clouds, the silver linings;
        new nights to live and to be
                                beauty is to know

to understand without words