Waiting.

My good friend Silence is here

His company is comforing in my travels

Tunnels of purple and yellow hint of joy

Iridescent light spots in the sole of the  Iris

Green eyes and a bleeding spirit

Seeping through the pores of eistence

An essential escape of the potentially great

Floating along streets wearing a comfortably fitting mask

Silence tugs at my sleeve

His fingers intertwined with strands of memories

Memories that I dare not braid

'Who am I ?'

--"Rather not." suggests the Right.

Silence adjusts the mask

The mask skews my Sight

Blunt and bold he tears it down

My good friend Sience is no longer around.