Words From the Fragile Spire

Dreams of Indifference

I approach an ashlar wall, unsure of its interior –

waning in the wind, displaying itself on the dirt;

a colossal, comical guardsman from the exterior.

I wander through the wall's open wound to a forward-

facing pattern of polished floor tiles, reflecting

every step like reversing time, wandering backward.

I inspect a blurry trail of brightness from a blatant,

shining square of light, interrogating from afar;

its presence so loud yet its purpose so latent.

I follow the fantastic show with such compliance

that the room's boundless sides become a tunnel;

the thought of other things becomes defiance.

I arrive at the center, the tangible light a tenderness

like a lover's caress; with no stronger want than

to know a love like this without the callousness.