To the Absence of Dust

Rolling over
I looked in her eyes
And found a pinch of dust in her corners

Tenderly I plucked it out
And letting myself go
Stepped closer to her fading edges

Her soul had once walked gold-spun tightropes
Like silk worms in halls of Queens
Like sirens draping cliffs, and hidden turquoise shallows

Now, her cast away dreamings
Were drawing her out, taking her away
Like the insistent storm-green undertow of a wild ocean

And now, I saw for the very first time
That she had always been destined for a place
Where dust just slides off
Where she would never ever gather eye-dust again

To the Absence of Dust

Robert Knapman

Adelaide, Australia

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