Ah, the poverty of the written word!
It does not carry the punctuations
Nor gestures or embellishments
Of a spoken utterance
Listen to the silence!
I went sleepless and troubled
Hiding under my pallid skin
As a thick blanket of darkness
Enveloped the starless night.
This is no dream, my love
For dreams have no anchors —
You have frozen in space
Like a timeless statue,
A figureless corpse
In a remote galaxy.
Do not be disturbed
When I break through
Your protective armors
And quietly slip in.
