ROMANCE ON THE RAZOR’S EDGE
In a chiaroscuro light
I ride on a song in the back
of a Venetian gondola.
I see as if blind, hear as if deaf,
trust the voice within my voice
to speak for my naked self.
I release the shackles of my breath—
don’t beat around the bush,
with lost moments frittering away my time.
There is no boredom, music fills all space.
I ignore shadows on my Ouija board
and keep oblivion thoughts out of my mind.
It’s synchronicity—I can cartwheel my way home.