The world around me is unknown. The
swirled images, harsh stone,  blue eyes,
skyscapes, confused sunsets.
Each whispered word, each empty touch.

If the moon shone just as bright,
what would be the sake of the beauty of the sunrise?
If the stars could fill the void,

why would the sun bother rising?
Why would clouds cover horizons?

when all I want is it to stop,
to still, to stunt, to sigh, to breathe
to be. But the world spins faster,

and I blink through a clouded haze
at the calm of now, the facts,
the brink of crowded days.