a universe sings
in the distance between us,
hidden-
secret threads dangle
austere in air such as this
and we are unknown
as a contrast
by the different shades
within white
so thick that lashes play to our beat,
a rhythm of blinks, like oars slicing water
open
as though the sea were onion-bent,
scattering salt into pieces of sky
to be carried from there to here,
through this glass
across my sill
fragments of sunlit
lines frozen
portal to floor
at a glance they seem
so cold
so far away
but every measure lies-
closer and the view alters
our shape
and each of us palms
a carnival
of motes cast high and low,
glitter tossed atoms
by eddy and drift
arranged
as notes in a dust written score
indifferent to how random
we are as noise,
so there is nothing more
and nothing less
beyond each silent syllable
between
and we collect them all;
dance with each aurora
sung to us of stars
and the music
cast as semaphore, where umbral
we bend
by the half-light of other
reflections
each beautifully discordant
Adding your comment:
either way i did very much enjoy reading this, it was truley beautiful 
