i feel lost, somehow:
afraid of stars, of shapes, of sound.
no map can bring the whispers back.
no light can make its way.
one life, consumed in finding waves
final breaking, fades without.
tangible, yet not at hand.
one last, one happy, one kiss.

untold and choice redeemed by silence,
relayed by touch, revealed by taste.
removed and still the voices ring
hanging on our dreams (remain.)
and bending, always cutting a path
through the glass of our eyes
like fireflies,
laying their passion on our tongues.
i wait for something speak:
like the leaves or the grass or a secret to cry
(just a little cry, a tiny thing).
but nothing ever lies.

and hope, that vicious vagabond
goes smoothly through my heart
like a stone through water,
ripping at the innocence, the pain of losing words
takes over and i fall
into the abstract of it all,
and it ends like a beginning
with a smile.