what makes you tick –

to drown here in abstract solitude is

not so unseemly as it appears; it

confounds reason to die before your time --

take it to the metal

with ironfoot and glacier hands

rubbing out visions

of horror and doubt -- have you seen

her there, awake in the waves, waving

to you from some celestial space?

a lunar journey

inflames headstrong desire

to quiet our Nerves; these

are only lonely in

your precipice -- Stake them to

the wall with quick arrows

fletched from waiting bows -- it

is here

in this darkness that we ascend, grieving

along the way, hoping

we can have

what we want and leave behind the rest; it

is our comeuppance, our

coming-to -- have you

seen her eyes glinting in the lamplight

holding out to

you a steady embrace? She

is the mock-up

of an unsure footed love -- She

breaks glass

and holds forth; all

surrendering Commandments bellow

underwater

demanding Justice

and

inspiring a steady Peace as

you skim

the surface and Survive, only

undermining your

logical

conclusions . . .