The Hamartia of Creation

Madness and love

Like the border of bubbles in moonlight

I practiced such delicacy

Fearing the emptiness remaining if I reached and touched

Working tirelessly, painting a portrait

Of every beautiful thing in you

Somewhere I think I lost the thread

Enchanted by my own creation

Reality is stark, but never fragile

Like dreams and newborn things

What sin

My body between love's perishable work

Eyes closed

Against your swift indifferent wind

I listened, for signs and portents in its noise

Over the small music within

That I fought tears out of fear

that they would wash the scales from my eyes