Bridges

I burned the bridges
to the past
and bathed in it's ashes
to never be afraid
of it

but the smell never goes,
the road is still there
and i still believe it's ghost
will haunt me,
for times to come
and there is nothing we can do,
nothing at all.

I pray to be preyed upon, you say your thanks, the silence hangs, heavy with the promise of your hands, their slow advance, the teasing dance, of your fingers on my arm injects me into forbidden lands.

What if the Moon
was the second sun?

who couldn't be brighter,
who could not give life,

one who was devoid of love
and decided eventually to float alone

only to attract the oceans
and see the people
sigh over love
like himself
for eternity

dust from the all the worlds,
a scarf knitted by a mistress from somewhere,
jar of wine that makes you forget the past,
thirst for the lands unseen,
this was all
what the nomad ever carried.

scriptures from all of the worlds
a letter written in some undecipherable language,
potion that makes you drown in dreams,
curiosity of meeting people never seen,
this was all
what the wise ever amassed.

they never traded stories
they traded in worlds.