I cling tight
To everything that bares
Itself from you
But there are ordinary voyages
And ships that have no harbor
I will surround you
From the inside out
I will worship you under
The bright soul of your sun
Side by side
We will ride
Half living
Half dreamed
A passion imperfect
Sometimes clumsy
Even with the utmost
Comfort and Brevity
Dripping with generosity
Beneath your fragility
Pride beams
That quickly dissolves
Into a blinding day
It was by no fault of your own
That my self-worth crumbled
I grew coarse
I grew grim
Now you see more
That what you really are
I can overcome
Your conquering over me
By JBW
A Dead Language 