At first it was as though I had stumbled upon
The life breathing the origins of my own
Atop a splintered fence
Blazing
Eyes of a godly thing
Taking flight as I thought it—
You are my saving grace
Ancestral spirit like paper skin
Fading
Window gaze, my pensive
Death upon the precipice
Now peer all the same
On the third day, forgotten
Nesting away
In the chasm of another
Missed for the embrace
My longing contained
By glass walls, steaming
Suffocation—yet
Come morning, I prayed
And you eluded me again.