Skips

[emptyjacket]

to whom, I cannot say
here
love notes skip across time
as a stone upon some subterranean lake

in the darkness the wet knipping sound
reverberates off the cold stone ceiling
as the ripples upon the shore
each reflecting back on nothing
to nothing

eventually the stone will touch the surface of the water
for the last time
and sink into the blackness
the air will become silent once more
and the lake will become still