As faces age with time and desperation Voices crystalize Into the chemistry of a memory that comforts me In the waning hours as I descend Everyday... slipping away Spinning the silk of my own cocoon on a distant moon Severing ties with painful goodbyes It's no surprise that I would choose solitude So I guess, at best, I'm blessed with a blindness That keeps me synchronized With the chemistry of the memories that come to me Sealed inside my satellite My words rise like a fever in the thinning air And collect themselves in darker corners Saying nothing... and getting me nowhere