there are a million definitions given
but none fully address the
complexity that is brought.
a silhouette without definition
but every indications of beauty.
a reach that ends
with a handful of fog,
but a desire to try again,
how i long for words
to fill that empty chasm
where your roots have dug.
i am an author but you are the author
who is that ambiguous silhouette
that strangely fulfilling fog
that chasm full of trees.