Waiting For The Stars To Fall
Deep within the depths of your eyes,
by K.M. Jones
Those placid mirrors that burn with the fire of your soul,
I see the reflection of an impostor,
A fool who has drunk deep from fantasy's bowl.
No masks of lies can hide the truth,
For there are few who cannot part the mists.
But some there be who cannot see the reality
Spoken by those by shadows kissed.
Your words caress with fingertips of silk,
Unfurling a land of scented smoke and lace,
But the voice that cools my fevered mind
May never be connected to a face.
Far stretch the spanning skies
That part the outstretched hand from star,
But distance has not meaning for statues,
That stand forever, wherever they are.