The Other
Can I call you another,
With arms stretched out?
Forget that evil is in your spit,
And demons crawl about?
Can I call you the other,
Who has stayed frozen
In sacred, blissful lands
Too good to lay open?
You, dear, are lost in you.
In thresholds covered up;
Brick after harder stone.
I can’t seem to reveal us.
This tragedy is eternal.
I can by no means read on.
So I leave you behind,
And my love flies upon.
Goodbye sweet history.
I find you not a lover.
Today I look to swords;
Find you in another.
-Luke-Dakota Massey
