12/12/02 1:23 AM



I'm self cast into the role of the fallen leaf
dependent on some animated breeze
to travel
I cry to winds "lend me your hand to squeeze"
before my perfumed skin unravels
in fandom of barometric wimb
I hear a prattle
the random rupture
of seamless engines from above
now the air fakes sleep like a possum
and I've become my own navigator in the interim

I just don't know the way
my map is vast
and I've named all it's eager colonies
colored them in like the moods they inspired in me
though you may think my gaze reflects paradises blossoming
beyond domestic chance
I was blindfolded by the wind
in it's cyclical chariot
my eyes undressed only when I had arrived wherever
oblivious to the spotted borders I traversed in the night
my own footprints are a forgotten dream
can you see them behind me as you glance beyond my shoulders
I can't look back
lest I choose to loose sight of that vague horizon ahead
the same one you came from
to discover me

had all my moments been in vein?
am I the passenger sleeping through a journey sweeter than its destination?
have I found the force that cripples its wielder?
will my delayed reaction intercept me before I've reached the dark terminus
of the emptied river?