the words
refuse to be formed
by tongue
nor by thumbs
cognizant of the spiral
trying to navigate it
through acceptance
but the light shines
through my stained glass
soulshatter to project
all the lies into
fully formed illusion

i long for passion
as the world sits off kilter
champagne gone flat
fills delicately fluted crystal
i am emptied out
of all the fantasies
ground to dust beneath
disappasionate discarding
her bare feet left
a confusing knot of prints
leading ever farther
from the eclipse in her eyes
and the ellipses in her smile