the walking man leads me onward into anonymity
where my skin turns blue and humid
and my hands shape forms of gold and wisdom.
where the walls rot into rainbows
and the sky melts away into the sea,
converging at the horizon
leaving man in a drunken stupor,
besotted by the splendor of God.
i am beside myself,
the feeling has fled my fingertips
and i am swallowed by a smooth melody
soft and warm against my ear
cold to the touch--
death in song.
but when the sun comes up i am lifted
and the ruins left behind me are too massive
to ignore in sleep.
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