She builds walls
in translucent shimmers of glass
invisible in the gaze
of a light conversation.
They shimmer
in the language of rainbows
seen only from the view
of romantics
who hope for reprieve.
Carving chasms from silence
she spans them briefly
with a gaze that can hold
or drop you so quickly, there's no time
to realize the plunge.
She builds walls
in transparent distortions
that mirror her views
sometimes yours,
invisibly melting the two into one
in mocking fantasy.
Drawn into shimmering proximity
her light touch can reveal
her spectrum of colors -
raw red irreversibly
drawn into radiant purple.
Realize, drowning,
that glass
is a patient liquid.
Jon Bohrn (2000)



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