The sky is

rent;

bruised

black and purple

against summer’s alabaster.

My heart

too;

my dreams

show me

in excellence,

excellence

that feels

unfounded:

the exam,

passed extraordinary;

the physical attraction

and animalism

I possess,

that of a star orbited

and yet

I look in a

ghostly mirror

and see my old

own known face.

Pale, my

hair scraped back and dark,

my lips painted

ruby red

in mockery.

How sad,

that my dream distinction

feels like

an alienation,

unnatural,

impossible.

But, I balked

at darkness

too:

hardly daring

to tread in

the forest

of pitch black;

hardly daring

to follow his

gaze to the

turtle,

bobbing, diving

in the currents

of an irrepressible stream;

too afraid

lest I lose my footing

and topple

into the deep.