Precious tempo in hesitation

A prick to the fingers, bleeds a sigh.
Such evacuation of robust memories.
The red smeared over lips so fragile, that a moth would imprint its life.
With such delicate fearful steps.
You came from lands so distant that it makes society ache.
Thinking of that time and space.
Yet resided all along, you have remained dormant in our eyes.
Young was the world when you began to smile.
Now changed to veiled cathedrals where you refuse to pray.
Fragrant embers of long forgotten hymns.
Wrappings of words fall like orange peels.
You drop those curious glances like pearls on sandalwood floors.
Scattering and chasing the other.
Rolling into the void.
Yet with the midday sun you retreat from our view.
Into the shell of shelf, where we dare to touch you like a forbidden treasure.
Encased in framed beauty.
Those smashed church walls surrounding you.
Warning others of your divine right.
And inaccessibility.

Reveal

The suffering of fools, with each day they add their stain.
A clogging of air that you need to breathe.
Beneath the end, that’s where they’ll find you.
So strong and complete. Underneath.
You want it all so badly, this revelation to tomorrow.
To be remembered and loved for the skeleton inside.
As you bathe in a bath of bleach.
And rinse your soul with turpentine.
Uproot the dark and the dirt that keeps you hidden.
That keeps you displayed for a world of passer-by’s.
This great reveal, behind the curtain.
Under the skin.
Is the world you live in.