Path of Two


Forcibly light headed

Through the thoughts you've embedded within me -

The dance that you've tapped

And has shedded my senses completely.

Stealing a glance of the sun on your skin.

Contrasting the glacier within my sighs

With your powerful lullaby. The kind

That shatters coherence

And brings my appearance to stand-still sketches.

Gasping for word-air with lungs so defenseless.

I guess... I'm just... totally excited

Over requited love and above all:

My ultimate wish to send you an essay of every word

Through paragraph-kisses.

Unending prose that is never quite heard

Yet understood in its premise. It's basic form

Adorns your soul's room

Like chandeliers of fears and light where Truth be near.

In your sight: the fight of smoke that never clears

Yet leaves us feeling clouds that choke us into silent screams.

Why then? Why do birds fly into certain smog?

Is it their winged-intuition providing visions

Of what lies beyond the fog?

Or is it blind desire to soar like never higher

Though it may be scorching fire in the distance?

Sifting through the concrete skies with swift resistance

Into the unnamed horizon.

Who's to say, though, I'm that bird?

Who's to say I'm even heard through muffled moans

Of something grown within these fragile mental-bones?

Who's to say I've suffered quite enough

To even bitch about the roughness

In the torturous abruptness of our broken cuffs?

Who's to know if all we cry is but a bluff?

When we die, will we have suffered something tough

So that our God will pity us and open paths to some comfortable wrath?

Or will we stand in place

Afraid to step across the painted line

That's traced across our uncertain yet future path?

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