The mist settles like lamb's wool on the lake As I wait for the coffee to brew My thoughts drift to the basement's chill There's something precious In creating with you This fringe space inside us, outside of us Spread out in mind A refectory table set for dinner two heads of state looking into midnight eyes reflected in candlelight Distance blurs The fine details that never mattered Our heartbeats touch With double pulses As we gather our poison darts in hand And set it d o w n Like porcelain plates on smooth wooden surface The gleam of metal sighing into a windchime Chain Willing the other to go first… Held in, Chopin's Nocturne no. 1 I close my eyes, floating
Layered Fragments, Becoming Whole 