A Kindling Soul

Movements might manifest some mindful, some blind luck. Unmasking, ultimately: a mirror, a muse, a magnet, a mindfuck(?) Blow by blow, leaves linger; some stronger, some longer than others. With warmth, vibrance, vigor - seeds stir silently; what is it that suffers? Abundance can, at times, drown a once-bright spot.  Crowding, chaos, competition: Dry, dirty, deep, damaged.  Is ‘weathering storms’ the plot? Some roots remember reason. Others branch out.  Meaning gathers moss in silence; want weighs on worship - Can reliance be thought out?

The pauses, the looks,  The jibes and hooks -  Cairns curated consciously. Breaths held hostage. Intimate.  Brutal. Delicate. Souls bared each side, Yet, much is held inside. Incessantly instep, intently in thrall.  Layers delved devotedly. Considerate. Breathlike. Deliberate. Measured in words, Through lines lightly blurred. Glances, gossip, grabs, graphics.  Done, undone, understood. Infinite.  Unspoken. Definite.  Sheer will weaving pieces, Gravity releasing creases.  Silences, setups and sequences. Almosts assiduously aligned. Relegated. Desolate. Delegated.

Sometimes when you talk, I watch but forget to listen. It’s not that I don’t want to;  But oh, the way those eyes glisten.  Sometimes when you smile, The shadows on your face dance; And a momentary glint in your eyes, Becomes the highlight of the glance. Sometimes, I can’t recall Telling you all you know about me.  Did you read my mind? Thought I was the silent variety. Sometimes, I wonder why  You’re the only surprise I never disliked. Never thought tailor-made words  Just needed the right eyes. Sometimes, not knowing is easy; Eyes closed, heads down, in bliss. But, when the lights come on, Something’s going to give.