Desires hang before me in a column
of pink smoke.
Shifting in the slight breeze,
translucent between
the Great Swan and I.
They undulate amongst
vapid thoughts and rivulets
Of light.
Caught in the opposition
Tossed about by indecision.
Desires, wisps without form,
Without substance.
Slowly swirling out of time,
And the wings flutter
Fanning the flames of my heart.
Be Still 