Rabid foxes in the wilderness,
Darkened eyes piercing through.
Your hair stands like a halo-
You are easy to distinguish.

I’d take your hand,
If you’d allow.
Please excuse me if my palm grows damp
Beneath yours,
And the magnificence of the Sun,
and the Lights,
and the Excitement – barely contained in the Breath.

But soon the warmth washes away,
This hand beneath mine grows cold.
Stiffness floods the fingers,
Flesh becomes as concrete-
No more human than the pavement i tread on.

The foxes come to collect you,
And i must let you go.