the rush to words
like that rush to judgment
in a snap
or in an instant
as the observer of your world
and therefore distant
inaccessible
from behind those walls
self-created by an ego
which longs for some security.
i ache to touch
with barely whispered kiss
your hidden scar
and with a start
(but not a finish) to gently rend
your world apart
or diminish
all that blocks your heart
from drinking love to the fullest
so surreptitiously.
