Fragments Of Us

Rising up to a blood-red moon

and falling 'neath a blood-red sun

I traverse the barbed-wire tightropes of the world

neither feather nor stone — not yet come undone

As from the summit, one can see cloudy

all the way through —

Above this, in a perfect whisper,

I wished to hold you:

"Don't cry, beloved, you'll come back soon" —

Below this — cold —

enlit by a smile

For these times when world-tired skies cast off

heart-shards

like splinters of light,

numbed by the tides,

yet seeking escape velocity —

and yearning,

still,

to feel more than this life —

These oceans,

drained of stars,

and storm-clawed in two...

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