Euclid's Fifth

Euclid's Fifth i. In Motion It was your pale glance, like a frame frozen for a second and then unfreezes, the cold moist from melting, biting my thoughts of breaking into your ice-walled dullness. Tonight the frigid span of time, muteness, between the divorce of time and space, thaws folds and creases of the ice-cold pause of a scene. While like a half-frozen mime reflected from a broken reel, scratchy, fallacious and recurring, creeps upon its numbed screen, my rigid, frostbitten flesh. ii. On Parallelism Suckled in the wounds of regret, better that all these fruits fall, the green ones no more, bitter to taste, unripened and dictated to full, proving you are closest to me, better that all these fruits fall, than to pluck them, flick through under tremulous limbs, with glimpse, with crave quickening each pauses, I'll point at them falling, slow and one at a time.