Again

Pensive is a way to describe

though to which must my heart ascribe

To your body or to your mind?

The way we move in the distance -

The dance I do when I realize

That which there is to fear: You.

Feelings fail, and love I idealize

But something about him -

Like the winter's grasp on life,

Like the torrent's flow

And it's I who've caused this strife.

Perception's rouse: Everything is green-

Induced, not created

Felt, not thought

Realized, not understated.

With him everything is actuality and

Nothing is meaningful.