circular poem

I stood on tiptoes and draped
my eyes with his, as if

I were a spring, the bearer
of immaculate intentions

returning to the mountain
to curb and divide petrified

depths, wavering into
frigidity, unable to contain

geysers anymore, knees slid
on crumbling rocks, ignited

I stood on tiptoes and draped
my eyes with his, as if



Honourable mention, \"Emerging from the shadows\"
contest, 2011, The Ontario Poetry Society, Canada