Eight
Jumping won't make it easier to fly
Nor will running head first in a door.
Catch that blazing silence
Tiger, roar.
It's easy to lock distance down in a stare
From afar, light a candle
Seeping through your hands falls your sweetened pieces
And I, who follows stardust and slides,
Is lost through kalidescopic eyes.
To follow cautious imprints through the way
A sign steps up. She's breathing.
She drinks the autumn mist fed from uncertainty,
Uncertainty reads unclearly.
To life she drinks. She's feeding.
To unhabitated quests and those denied,
She thrives off the bold, unsweetened mist;
Every question now dies.
To eternity...
Sensory through compulsion and a saw
Won't mix with fuss,
Nor will running head first in a door.
Kitty, roar.
Candid drives out of life capture
Sweetened simplicity
To cut between the bedrock
And release.
She's breathing.
