In Reference to Isolation

seven.

To be fearless

To be the manifestation of one's own

Consciousness

To sing in shallow voices in the sun

Are these the spoils of a broken 

And abandoned heart?

(And handed out in aching trust,

To foreign fingers that uncoil

And do the breaking for you)

The kind they speak of in the darkest

Nights, haunting that stretch of pavement

Beyond a bar

I wouldn't know

I run, I recoil

Into words stacked

In notebooks on the shelf

And the broken

And the brave

Storm ahead onto the dizzying floor

Disrupt the metronome of 

Waltzing footsteps on 

The floor

And the brave...

I sit back against the wall

Half hidden by a velvet curtain

Tumbling to

The floor

And the floor trembles

beneath my feet

I would look, shyly out the window

Shyly

Through the haze of pink champagne

And the humming sickness of

The Brave

And the blinding light

Into the hushed whisper of a garden

Into the night

Who doesn't know I'm watching

It's shadowed stillness bathed

In naked moon