the air of my hearts key.who can hold it in their hands?shaky and raw, filled with her own uncertainty.who can hold the tender space of white and gold dust.the barely seen naked truth.can she wait for me while I am barren.will she remember the times, alone in her room asking the unbearable truths. of my aloneness, the wandering images and seeking for ground.who will travel into those caverns of it all, forgetting she has a mission but to be. who shall annoint this place with fine oil and rose.a whisper of time swept with present life. is this time all but wasted prairie land been to in dreams?meeting in fields of one bird and then.who in time can trust all that awakens with no movement.how can one step into here-- bring this shameless enterprise of my being. why did i choose her? she holds the key.naked beautiful hand. i saw her in my dream.our angel dressed in aqua chentile flow.he walked with joy behind our dangling legs over the ledge of knowing.i slowly reach into watery eyes and breathe. no where to run. she stands before me. stop fighting.
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