With trembling hands
I do trace
The hard lines of your pale visage
Flesh taunt and smooth
Aquiline features
A bird of prey
Brush over closed eyes
That open to reveal
Green flecked gold
My fingers burned
By your light
You radiate, like the sun
And dare I whisper
Your name
Those hushed syllables
Echoing painfully
As I draw away
And into so many glass pieces
You fragment, you break
Shatter, float and drift
Skywards
Then disintergrate.


Illusions Do Fuel My Belief
Copyright 2003 Alexiel Au Yong