balancing on top of a candle.
Something as languid as a leaf
falling from the heights of canopied trees.
Something vagrant like the breeze
advancing from misty peaks
dancing across the road it speaks
of all that green borders cannot hold of the mystery.
With a new lease on the sky
drifting by in myriad forms
of makeshift places to hide
thoughts that walk like unsheathed velvet.
Its more akin to pulling a smooth sheet back.
Felt? Yes forgotten, in foreign places
It is formed from the umbilical worm
of a forbidden fruit
or in the rotten contours of pursuit.
We’re here suspended like puppets
filling the spaces with questions
with words like failing limbs
hung up on awkward silences.
All these disparate lives
interlocked with meaningful overlapping
with minimal effort
they make room for what’s binding.
Preserve these strands of affection
observe these hands of correction
soaked in a certain sunlight
glistening that which is hidden
a small insignificant footprint
follows these expressions
governed by the movement of waves
these clouds are veils of the same fabric
dividing our lives
and when the flimsy raft wears thin
domesticated and imprisoned
through small drifts you remain renewed
if ultimately unprepared to sever yourself
from shore for too long.