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Harmonic Expansion
In this sea of self-assured dilettantes,
we strive for nothing more
than to make unimposing waves
ourselves,
and hopelessly try and save
a fleeting fraction
of today.
Be everyone's,
I beg you,
artisan.
Let melodies
combine
and touch.
Extended fingertips
brushed,
send rushes
of a brush
streaking foreign paint.
Let's make music
along the lines
of intertwining streams,
washed into each other,
seaming liquid dreams
in mutual travel.
Strangers unravel the foreign
riddles
we cannot grasp,
and our scope
is binocularized,
our wisdom,
vast.
Touch... touch.
Don't you know the feeling
when dust mingles
with sunbeams
and finally becomes
visible?
Betwixt,
between
each other.
Hold my heart
and I
will be your lover
for a chorus.
Let Solitude abhor us
for our harmony.
