I feel like words inside a book looking out of the eyes of the reader.
As the story develops, images unfold under red dark room lights.
We speak of our own destinies unknowingly.
The after-fire leaves smoke in our hair.
Ink flows out and is captured in a moment.
A glance in another.
Where is this place I keep dreaming?
Whose shoes are on the door?
Why is it here I keep returning?
How did we ever give up our souls at dawn
For the sake of meeting again?
Answered and unanswered through this life determined.
A moment here and there...
© Sonja J Phinney 17-Oct-2006
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