Ghosts I

In the spotlight of a crisis uncertain of the scars of a score of collisions in a score of bars. Truth, it seems, is betrayed by dreams. Betrayed by dreams: Sad Columbine to play the Queen, in Harlequin's Charade. As rain on glass, in crystal drops experience condenses in a moment's loss. Wraithed in sorrows, long forgotten I see a face out of childhood: a face out of time; a face out of answers; a face with my eyes. The face of an angel, turning to dust. I lie on the sand as the tide of convention sweeps me away into his arms.