I write notes on the score of time,
running through faces blurred into absences.
I tear the canvas of days gone by,
becoming Poet, Jester and Winter.
I am a smile stolen by the wind
a future torn prematurely,
while my song bursts into the obvious.
Irreverent voice
falls into a tangle,
unfolds into a smile
and melts in tears.
In dizziness I lose your face,
the mirror turns over,
and the sense is lost.
But the vanished world suddenly reappears,
separated hands touch each other again,
the voids are filled, the canvas is sewn,
your face returns and History begins again.
Madness smiles at me and regurgitates the Sense,
a mano a mano dissolves the instant,
looks at me, bows, and is all Infinity.