World Within a World



My life is a heap of broken images.

It is a swift and misunderstood with a cracked lens and too many colors on the screen.

Love, won't you greet me under the door through a gust of wind, blowing my pages gently and silently
erasing numbers and letters
until
have you seen me?
I have seen you,
You hide under the shadowy whispers engraved in
Too many deaths and forgotten lives,
In the boundless silence and laughter of a slow and abrupt walk.
Yes, I have seen you.
Have you seen me?
I am delicately erupting under your skin
Pulling apart your hair with each strand.
And I exist solely in your eyelids, gripped within the air between your clutched fingertips,
Swimming desperately in the small area under your step,
Floating in the balloon you blow with each word.
Yes, I know you.
Yes, I'll save you.

1 June 2004