Predicative Dissonance

Pace, pace.

A heartbeat and a tremble away

and there you are.

Flagging in-between the moss

and tumbledown hearthstones

that pave the

broken memories.

Captivated

in the renaissance of your

discontent

you burn

up everything in

your glare.

You are the sun

and we,

silently rotating,

Are forever entrapped

in your grasp.

The pieces shatter

and make anew

a world without gravity,

a world without

your hated

caress.

Folds, rivulets -

Cascading down

into those cauliflower

waves of

icy countenance.

That look could break

a thousand ships

upon a rock

of your

frigid desire.

The heart warps

in a tiny box

made all of steel.

I'll drown

in your silent protestations.