2100
I move like mercury bobbing lightly just under
the surface of thought
I am the breeze that caresses
the white washed linen curtain
whispering belief that it can fly
I pacify the inevitable until it relents
to the crack of a new dawn
I kiss time until the moments pass and embrace still
I am the space between the end and remembrance of what is
I linger softly just under the moons glow
Watching
I amuse my maker
as I taunt between love and hate
I am the breath of the awakening
Just at the moment of revelation
Radiant colors descend and soothe slowly
Washing judgement into rainbows of purity
Why do only the colorless crayons
exist in the in between state?
