Seeing is Forgetting the Name of the Thing One Sees

no one else
sees the world the way you do
a single line
across the wall 
encircling all
a sky where spirits dwell
looking down on a sea of blue
whispering secrets in the breeze
shimmering
air gathering around them
like held breath
in cold and ashen dreams
yours
and mine..

beauty is momentary in the mind

truth must, by metaphor, be

all moments no matter how long

fade away..