i have strange dreams about you,
where you stand in such a darkness
and the light around you is dim;
unsmiling, you watch me
and talk about violence.
we exchanged voices, without a melody to our sounds
and once you turned your back with pen in fingers to paper on your lap,
i only then understood what you'd been hammering on about.
your eyes have a silence, so tenderly lonely,
like you know no other way to keep;
but your words i carry them with me like memories,
they dance in my mental wilderness
all i can do is let them wander astray,
for who could hold such beauty in its place