With clarity I see what isn’t spoken;
a far away dream, an island with splinters, identity made unclear.
In dealing with you, I notice
consistency, I notice an unclarity.
With freedom comes graces, with
clarity comes pains, in seeing you, I notice pegs, thorns, essence as it probes
us.
By certain mirrors—to sing in soul, a
place harnessed by winds.
In a vision of you, dear dark beauty
of you, days are verboten.
Pedestals of you, interior diaries
with you, fretting you. In detailed
landscapes, wings on high, tigers made humble, to have sung a dream.
I see what isn’t spoken, to enlighten
waves, to locate innocence.
