crisscross

Perhaps, I underestimated the journey.  Elves. What was I thinking? I run my hand through the stream that mirrors the landscape above. Looking back at the hand that skidded through the water, it isn’t wet at all.

soft spoken skin, 
unmatched to the 
horrors of the night.

dirt filled nails,
laughing children
with fruit juice dribbling  down their chins.

marble and gold.
they tease me.

I have learned to interpret silence. My mind splutters, on the verge of an idea, and once again disappears into the abyss. An ocean cannot freeze. Sometimes I wish it would. 

shallow breaths are ignored for sometime now. fingers, clenched up, scratching at others. no. 

love is unwritten 

yet it writes like a poem

universal love.
 

You walk barefoot, on the clipped grass, 
The hedges loom over us
harboring me from the thundering sky.
An imprint on the ground, a shadow where the flowers lie.
And there they are.