It will bring you up
it will bring you down
cursing, running, falling apart
light and snow
right and love
bright and wrong.
Roaring over a body
scratching the nudity of a star
stealing each line from destiny or time.
We are all poets
blind dancers
imperfect philosophers
Sculpting silence into a voice
or a touch into a form
on a canvas;
Recklessness on the edge of a dream
disguised as an abyss
or as a game.
Madness is the unfinished gift
or the perfect curse
of a fallen monkey
shaken by the strike of darkness
and alive
by diving
into the burning pages of life.