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you cannot see inside (but it is palatial)
Your fingers stretch and twist around, the tendrils crowned in power found in me, not you, surprised to find that’s that the truth I’ve kept inside my fortress mind - That as you look, begin to see that gaze of yours stops short of me – it gazes at, not gazes through because, well, I guess that you don’t know me as well as you think you do. One wall is up, a second too, and so I find: you can no more grab hold of me (I’m free) - that gaze, those fingers something lingers, something falls.. my careless tips, the ball it slips right through and smashes on the floor: our crystal love it is no more, than memories I do not want, or need, the greed and wish to store them up, to hoard, is gone. And so, at last, I have moved on. |
