Water, smooth as a mirror, shiny as death.
I am the lake, the lake is me.
Are you the mist hovering over
my haunted vision and fractured mind?
Lost am I but bemused by your fragile beauty.
Your cold breath on my face telling me I am alive.
Mist taking me away, quick call my Mother. I’m about to drown.
Moon above, face of my unknown lover....
Wednesday 9th May 2012 5:50 pm