Circles of glass in the floor,
I have fish-eye views of not much more;
I prop myself up on my two elbows
And cork my vision, unscrew my nose.
There is not much more to see
More in this pit hole.
If you are trapped, I am too
But I’m not thinking on my own.
On my own, without a torch,
With no blind-man’s third eye at hand
You’re on your own, all alone
Grasping for hold on melting slow-sand…
My hand is near, but your lone thoughts steer,
You away and your beliefs grimly hear
Only hollows in the dislodged rocks…
It is dark here, and airless…
But I fear, my only fear….
That someday you might realize
That I was there at your side…
Feeling your last breath trickling away…
Because I’m standing on the circles of glass…
So you might breathe as they will break…
So we can both breath…
Together, breathe…
Even if for just one second.
No comments:
Post a Comment