Sliver-possible light,
Through narrow glimpses,
Keyhole-looking,
Baited breath-stealing–
Walker of tiptoe mysteries.
Traces in the dust,
Fathomed through pages,
Implored for more–
But left vacant at the gate.
A mouthful of yearning,
Eclipsed by walls–
Left agape at the possibilities,
Watching the light disappear.
