Blue as the geography
of footprints across the dunes
quiet as the white music
of a silent moon
like the wind blowing
the soul off the water
the shadows go out
and are lost in the evening
I conclude the hypothesis
of sundown making no sound
while night climbs the vines
where lowing sadness abides
the ritual of tides pulls me under.

Axiom does not lie upon the
plush bed of the words I've said.
It doesn't flourish under influence of the
flowery texts I've written.
Axiom does not fully exist behind the
actions I've deliberately displayed.

It is ingrained within the subtle folds,
inexplicable nuances
and playful innuendos.
It is present in the lull you find in between
fleeting memories and faltering heartbeats.
It is scored into the unlyricised songs,
sung when our breaths do meet.
It's in the unplanned gazes that
stray into nothingness
only to be caught by yours.
It's evident in the void... The silence we've shared
without ever feeling awkward.

Axiom...
Is the fall that you had anticipated
only after having taken the leap.
It's that feeling of not knowing where the bottom is
but yet still certain that you are safe.

Axiom is...
My unseen heart as it beats hard
for none other than you.