the blank page mocks
just as the bare stage
lies cold, white, waiting
for unsteady, ink-stained
footprints & lines to claim

temporary ownership—
breathe it in

peace spiraling into the perfect
moment of taming the world
your own soul caught
& still inside beauty
until it slips through
mortal fingers—words
upon the wind, clouds
brushing through skin
ever elusive & fleeting

with an inward glance
through imperfect eyes
catch a glimpse of mirror
fragments of self inside
a painting of someone else

an infinite search
between lines & glances
across crowds of empty
space

frustration ensues if no
outlet is found
illustrating (y)our struggle

the script opens
the new page
&

I

can’t stop trying
to catch you.