I cannot say my creed in words.
How should I spell despair, excitement, joy and grief?
amazement, anger, certainty and unbelief?
What was the grammar of those sleepless nights?
Who the subject? What the object? –
of a friend who will not come, or does not come,
creates his own eccentric special dawn:
A blinding light that does not blind.
Why do I find you in the secret,
wordless places where I hide
from your eternal light?
I hate you.
I love you.
I miss you.
I wish that you would go
and yet I know that long ago
you made a fairy tale for me
About the day when you would take your sword
and battle through the thicket of the things I have become.
Your kiss to life…my Sleeping Beauty
waiting for her Prince to come.