I held the world in my arms today -
Warm, pulsing, beating,
Yet, still, as though placid, tranquil,
Real.

I found myself protected,
Nay, projected by ashen clouds aloft:
Hot like a mother's embrace,
Yet dark, as if the world
Bled to me these clouds of ash.

But do not think these clouds are fear -
Anything would hold more truth.
On emerald breaths
And azure words
They bore me skyward from my ground -
If any could call it ground -
And altitude unnamed was here;
These clouds had made it mine.

So on these silken clouds of ash,
I rise into the cosmic sea.
In a world upside-down,
I point up,
And know I am lost only to time.
And I point to the world.

I held the world in my arms today -
So cold.
Real.

Curious, the way the seasons find their home in everything.
Perilous, the way the coldest frost of winter always comes.
Maddening, the way that frost will always melt in time for spring.
Saddening, the way the heat must always leave and make you fall.

With every pulse, my tired mind grows strong
As your eyes absorb my every detail.
My limbs grow weak to hear your silent song
As I lay inside our own fragile veil.

A curtain of darkness surrounds us two.
The ghosts of everyday memories pass,
And yet they dare not invade our thoughts true:
The light from your eyes makes each moment last.

And yet the clock knows no innocence here:
Nature's divines oblivious again.
I feel the end of our time drawing near.
My heart races to sing its words, and then

You're gone once again. My mind slows, it seems.
No one to listen to me but my dreams.