What is hidden from all others is clear
to she who sees all my thoughts spotless
and without obstruction. I have forgotten
the way the vowels in the sky appear
and disappear as the hours turn to years
and years turn into lives. But if she's not
disclosed in the lines that the planets jot
on the horizon, I know not where to steer
my self for peaceful shores. I have to ask
her to protect what I have kept hidden
in the depths of my heart. She is a task
that's never finished where I now reside
and suffer. Yet, I am consumed by masked
symbols, with longing as my only guide.
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