Open.

Open your canteen,

and pour heart rain on me.

Open your window,

let your soul breeze take me.

Close the lid,

I get trapped inside,

a mindless ride –

a mind-list trick –

headspace cry,

crevice, lied,

retouched bride.

Am I burning?

I was just turning –

a figure danced inside

her midnight dress and

I felt a yearning,

to learn

then hide.

Damn, so concerning,

this ever-changing tide.