Of Masks And Walls

 

Fire that fills

the breathless hour that lives in fire alone.

Christopher John Brennan

It is your turn, beloved,

it is your flesh that I wear.

Leonard Cohen

We scar slower

diamonds turning into coal

ghosts of a future that never happened

seeking pleasurable  suspense

always dreaming of control

of a perfect stranger

that will teach us

how to be ourselves

wrap the world

around this tearful endless yearning

weave a sea of light

to take the place of these weary wings

waiting for the right wave

to chase the impossible

tranform the room

into an uncharted jungle of desires

tired of waiting

tired of being tired of something

there's no exit, at the edge of this stage

only fire can bleed this silence