Beyond the I of the Glass

Behold the cruelty of tomorrow,

A bridged world of electric settings

Spreading moments and names

So thin, manageable, pale,

As ghosts try ghosts on for size.

Seeing you see me, close as to kiss

Yet far and real as the stars –

Bodies between memory and actuality –

I smile and find the night charming.

Goodnight, goodbye

Is as much a curse to the sun

As a removal of a face from a face

Or to die.

Two figures in dense, violet night

Face a glass pane.

No pity or despondence in their sighs

Upon the glass betwixt their eyes.

Behold the light drifting by and through,

Upon your face, a streak of loveliness.

Speak, and if silence only sakes your thoughts,

Think to love beyond your voice and grasp.

We spend our mind beyond that glass:

A foggy blue, synthetic wall, perfectly in the way,

Unscathed and cold by touch.

The weakness of our form fixes our thoughts

And fascinates us with the unknown world

Beyond the I of the glass,

Yet still and silent are the stars.

Oh how they shine! Bending our forms

To dream and sing and scheme of the divine.

This obsession with what we cannot obtain alone

Separates us from the objection –

Each self, upon feet, upon a bank,

Fearing the waters of chaos and drowning in

The unnatural acceptance of I won’t be,

Goodnight, goodbye –

And fills our hearts with longing.

I dream of the warmth on the other side,

Of the smells and shades christening my breath.

Beyond the glass, the sounds are clear and igniting.

My spirit, none-sided, sends me through the glass,

A colorless, thin resolution dividing –

To those moving lips and shadows,

Sounding not, minding not –

Where fallen soft, your hair, billowing grace

Asphyxiates despair.