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