You, with the moon, in the mirror
stiff at the sharpening stone
keeping the deepening dreamer
asleep in the shallow
her, with the war, in the corner
ripping the pillows up slow
sending the feathers away with
the shimmering snow
and i, in the wake of an angelfish,
float on my own
i, in the shape of an avalanche,
quake in the cold
i, in the shadow of everyone,
carry on slow
i, at the end of a line,
toe it alone
he, with the hands of an answer,
stands at the edge of awake