words stumble on the threshold <br />so close, so close to air <br />so close to being spoken, <br />so close to taking shapes <br />that cannot be undone <br />so nearly a creation <br />of what new world? <br />do they stumble out of shyness? <br />out of nerves, of hot excitement <br />longing to be free <br />to sing a paradise of textures <br />to paint joy across the sky. <br />are they weighted with compassion? <br />or with pain? Phoenix tears <br />that heal all wounds and lead to smiles <br />or acid fumes that cut and bead <br />the world with copper scented blood. <br />There is no way to know. <br />They stumble on the threshold of my lips <br />and fall beneath the lens of others minds <br />that call them raw or rich or empty <br />making love or pain in equal measure <br />fitting them to needs that fill a moment <br />so far removed from me <br />their echoes are like strangers <br />wearing my face.<br /><br />Midnight Clarity<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/words-spoken-words-heard/
