If truth were not so fragile
I would thrust my hand into a mirror
And trace the contours of my face, to scan
As others can the markings of my life, and I would know more.

If truth were not so fragile
I would crouch on the dock and lean too far
Over the still pond at night, falling free into the sky
Past clouds and dreams, and know wild flight beneath the stars.

If truth were not so fragile
I would leap past the moat your eyes throw
Before me, and dare to empty my heart into yours,
Before you turn and shatter my gaze. And then you would know.