Still waltzing      - friends, so dear, dearer still   I read my poems Far too loud   I write my words Far too fast   I drink my silence Far too deep   And I still breathe Far too full   While my pen flies Across unchartered lines Waiting to communicate Barren thoughts   Rushing and screeching In moments of disgust Permanently lingering Too perfect to last   With all its beautiful Enduring imperfections Still more and more perfect With every stroke spent   Slow-dancing in the void Of rational and irrational Trading every tomorrow For a single yesterday   So far away Far away Away