There are times when I embrace exhaustion as my lost love.
His indifference
His frigid kiss.
We once again retreat
into restful
Silence.

There I revive my eyes with new visions.
Switch off the white noise.
I feel new; less sunken
By the weight of all the
Politics of this self.

Oftentimes I fool myself,
I make promises
to stop short of
empty.
Futile,
I am blue garnets.


The steps to this dance
were
written
By
the
Stars.