the realization

–The dance of words, my lords
lets move like ants
tonight
it's us
working in the room of lust
–
a court of dust.

there is a lighthouse
glints as broken pieces of the moon.
there is a promise
that we'll make it back to shore.
Not me,
I promise,
our minds will find the core.

In a castle made of clouds
lived a thousand letters
but none of us have answered

yet.