your confidence crashes against the low walls,
shaking them - an earthquake of ego.
fear stands still
it isolates against your icy touch
tongues of fire attached to
your harshly pointed icicles
except, this one cannot alight
sparks and sparks but no fiery flame.
you dampen the tongues like you dampen the walls
they cannot escape your wet touch
you discomfort and strike the strings that soldered it all together.
unable of entering
your cold destroyed
a perfectly, able ocean.
________________
Bethany Louise Rose
2014/15
