Close to the borderline | of distance
I found pastel horizons
placid like the ideal mind,
only in reach to the woman
who can walk on waters combined.
Close to the borderline | of doubt
I slid under hibernating fog,
absently shrinking into oceanic blue,
unaware that I was filling your sunflower vase
with enraptured dew.
Close to the borderline | of nothing
I fell into an empty well,
flooded it with my own self-pity
and floated amongst declining memories,
only finding reason in limestone reflections.
Close to the borderline | of you
I decorated my pit with cut out daffodils
and cherry painted windmills.
My smile was as silver as seaside dusk
and your soul was as gold as an ivory tusk.
Close to the borderline | of love
I felt your touch deep between my breasts,
your words buried into my chest
and built their residence into a silk nest.