The Dead Sea scrolls, they say,
have so many secrets...

The ice is smooth.
Cold, almost like fire...

Time, and time, and time again.
I stand here before my mirror...

Sometimes, I see things in the mist of memories...
Things come to me in the mist, like shadows, back...

I heft the rock in my hand.
I try to close my whole hand around...

The skies are not so blue anymore,
and tears fall from the gray clouds...

My eyes are closed.
I slowly turn my head this way and that...

Smoke, bitter sweet, fills my lungs.
Thunder, rolling and creeping, shakes...

The kiss was wet.
And somehow painful...

You don't know the things that
go through my mind when I look at you...

The world is off kilter.
The sky is the wrong color...

There are no apologies,
when there's nothing left but anger...