not-so-Vincent

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You're bathed in light everyone sees
It's darkness to me

I long for
But cannot posess
The vertigo of your eyes

Close them: They're dangerous

Rugged child,
Prospecting beauty from chaos

Slip your hands behind your back:
They're treacherous

The cadence of your steps pierces me
As you walk politely past--
Your pulse is the compass for my wandering

Deny me your presence: It's consuming

In the still gallery of my haunted heart,
Burning the wall
You become art

You
Are a beautiful consequence

(from on Empire)
January, 2008



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