a cascade of crystals
lit your eyes
when the sun
locked its
gaze
on your skin
like tissue
paper,
deeply creased from
well lived
days.
coloursofthesoul
when i’ve ceased
climbing
for fear of
slipping
i’ve grown too known to
my surroundings
and miss the noise
of strangers,
but do they miss
my whisper
amidst the
blurred out crowd?
you had more
light
than we would
burn
off
with
friction,
causing sparks
couldn’t be
turned
off
but we prefer
it dark.
you grant such solace
through silence
and i bask in the boundless
fathoms of our
connection,
it’s through this
ether
we reach each
other.
a hanging
shadow–
i pass through
you
notice not my
whisper
in blind attempt
to catch your focus
if only for the
moment.
was not prepared to
feel so stripped
by the threat of
one stranger
with a pressing need
to be heard
while i could
not lend
ears.
she offered
amity,
i leant a heart
to be seen
and touched with
childish
hands
reaffirming that
feeling
is worth the
danger
of running naked
through my
mind,
walls of this room
wept
with each
share
of members clasped
in a mutual
embrace
transcending human
language and
fear,
oh these walls
shed tears.
still offering such
charity
in your words
for me,
when all i crave
is truth,
for it bridges the
disparity
between what you
say and
do.
each snowflake shares
a story
to those with
ears for
quiet
nestled in between
the hours
we rest as though
in death.
hands in the garden 
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