My words that here etch upon lay black upon white, the thought that form that lingers silent amongst those cushioned membranes of mind. Whisper, and sometimes cries so deeply from within, without Into a world of being whereby I see all that you are. There where the night plays in feathered dreams the world readdresses itself and here in the sweet pantomime of plays I understand the depth. Dark the hushed embrace wherein I trace those remnants that are of you. That I touch, reach out to hold grasp, a little more than indeed I understand. It is within these boundaries that stress the points of being, seeing That I fall to the whim of the moment the torment that resides longing to know you more.