Vision of Light

The bluish glow through dusty, opaque glass
infused with the intent to soften light
suffices for the time whose time will pass
until your brilliant brilliance beckons bright.
Did I say “beckon?” Laugh.  I’m laughing too
at how I try to fit my blind desire
for what imagination says is you,
to what my aspirations all aspire.
I’m drunk on this idea that my soul
is like a spinning window, changing panes
from light to dark, the spectrum as a whole
is infinite; the barrier remains.
Perception’s filtered darkness lingers near
until you make it real. Come make it clear.

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