i roamed into darkness
as the moonlight shed its light
in the dusty panes of the old
temple.

were the tombs of a thousand
pages unmoved,
of unseen things,
of obscure meanings
from his little grey cells.

and caressing the yellow plates,
fingers ran into deep vacuums to glean
the transcendent thoughts,
the laws of common sense
that he often uttered  
in this temple

a perpendicular impulse
hovering in the shadows,
laid still, holding on to his
immovable  designs,
unmoved.

i had a friend named Taylor
we went to school together.
and folks used to admire her,
for she was a conqueror.
wanted to become a doctor,
said “won’t be any longer.”
but Taylor was a dreamer.
fell in love with a liar.
he spoke of his manor,
his mansions and many more
where they both lived forever.
she ran off with her lover,
i thought it would be forever.
then many years were over
and I met Taylor once more
was skinny; her skin no fair.
she was selling woods from moor.
banana cues and other
with seven children with her.
and her husband who drank beer
shouted at her, “you are a bore.”

once again, i watched
the yellow leaves
broke off from branches,
assembling,
casting a figure,
rhyming swiftly
with the cold, playful Wind.

years ago, it happened
quickly.
only i arrived later
and lost somebody,
whose hands were melting,
and saw the cold Wind
for it was done.

but today,
it passed through the strands
of my beloved’s hair,
so i asked the soft Wind
be softer

that only
i…may have
the frozen hands,
secretly repelling.