Disciple
Disciple
I close my eyes to pretend
you are with me
my hand reaches into the empty place
where you have not been
still I feel you are near
I have not stopped looking for you
this timefull trance suspends me
in an unforgiving mess of lost intention
instead of following
I'm sitting on a wooden bench
watching time dial around the unmoving center
the woman behind the glass calls me
she leads me along a yellow hallway
little nameplates are blank beside the doors
one opens I enter
two chairs a small desk
picture of a waterfall on the wall
behind where I sit
it's the second time I've been here
and the second time I'll leave
without knowing why I came
or where I'll go to find you
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