As I wait for one more brash breath,
Ungrateful for all those past,
I know the weather will pass.
What good is loneliness
Until its end?
There is no reason and no strength.
Indecision is the intensity of intuition.
Language moves toward abstract music,
Walking into myself, uncertain dance,
See me, spent shell of mental fire,
More than visible.
We are inspirable
And become between.