A moments
core wandering
many hands invented
touching me – us
moment + the inner uncertainty
touched by silhouettes
possibly a mother
whose age is light and clarity
in a moment
the thought of progress dies
a face remembers the rock
of the bone
a circle around the things
we know
beyond it
the heart of the things
we cannot love.
Beyond Language 
‘beyond it
the heart of the things
we cannot love.’
– The vast majority do on even try to probe the surface, much less arrive at the heart; probably coz it’s already dead, or more likely the fear of losing sanity.