It is a puzzle,
\nthe story of life.
\nThe flashbacks
\nof exploding mountains.
\nMemories that haunt
\nor comfort,
\nwhen we put our heads
\non a pillow.<\/p>\n
Looking in a well,
\nwho sees us from its depths?
\nWhat does the face say
\nlooking up at us?
\nWho are you
\nfrom that strange world
\nabove?<\/p>\n
Where do you belong?
\nI am the face
\nof your shadow.
\nVacant as a house
\nleft open to time.
\nThe past buries itself
\nand wants to sleep.
\nThe sun
\ndoes not burn
\nin this darkness.<\/p>\n
I cannot see
\nthe person inside you.
\nAsk another
\nto look in your eyes.
\nPerhaps they will say,
\nstay with me.
\nI am drawn to your loneliness!
\nAnd then dear seeker,
\nwe might both,
\nhave a story to tell.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It is a puzzle, the story of life. The flashbacks of exploding mountains. Memories that haunt or comfort, when we put our heads on a…<\/p>\n