Hither and Thither

My reasons rain invisibly against your closed windows.
Too close you sway to damaged doors of perception.
But these words they don’t penetrate; nothing ever ratios.
They travel past your eyes that show too little recognition.

In the gloom of pine splintered by nails of light,
I stand here musing crossroads, contemplating dispose.
On tenterhooks I dangle and dance; must I fight or take flight?
I fear the conclusion of the day that brings this to a close.

You are coiled in the cunning hollow of a ring,
snatching at a thousand reasons that may allow a safe depart.
I blame you for the possibility that this mendacity may bring.
I will wait until the sunlight burns my shape in your heart.

— S.P


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