And the moon arises once again,
the sky has not blinded me completely,
stars tremble with a mysterious fear,
a slow song etching into my consciousness.
From that hushed laughter of my past,
frays steadily a face: vulnerable and empty,
I keep wondering who is lost among us
as icy realities melt away in flowered dreams.
Like a grim clamp of light, sadness settles on
that face-history puts out its languid shadows;
my thousand thoughts refuse to fall asleep
these hold nothing in their hands.
This room of mine is a whole world: I see
wrinkled secrets in smallness of life; I turn the page
another story enters the pieces of past time,
shaping us from the pasts we walk together.