spinning through a mirror on a solitary
style in the winds of Winter
devouring faces near and far

vulnerable outside here in your
glorious shadow, night or morning
hit me in the head as I stare into
an empty room-
so full, so full

full of gentle movements uncaring
and believable in terms of healing
your grace is ungraceful
(you expect to much)
I can't even believe it

responding to the response that never came,
a little trigger to get your attention

I'm,
holding on
running in a circle,
so nice
doing the dance on the ice

it's alright,
and it's okay
you tell me in my mind
it could be no other way

the farther away I am,
the closer I get
little things that remind me,
and even as I wish I could erase your face
you keep showing me these other things
another side, a hole in the wall
a hole in my heart
outside your window,
running in circles,
so nice, so very very nice
doing this dance (alone) on the cold
hard
sharp
ice