Roommate

Warm rooms of carpet snuggling the sides of my toes

Cold feet and hands are what I possess as they are my own
Stripped down because it's comfortable here as troubles are beneath me.
He sits lowly in dim lighted places such as my living room space
A Capricorn is down there and he reminds me of a bull not a goat
Dismal lucidness and no harmony in light song.
A warm room feels like water on my cold as winter skin
A climate of the stars is my Pisces soul
So many lines... and you wait... for so many things.
No blending technique for the Cap whom conceals the ground like an armed weapon
My cool flowing motions he hates and tries to construct
Our differences keep us at bay and yet when we speak there is peace.
A justice that is kept by respect of shared spaces.
Water that draws a line on the surface of the sandy land
A boundary made somewhere up past the clouds
The ones that crowd the light so it is dark by my seven of night.
And yes, I know my target seems unclear but my point is certain
That this dance we do is like a bull and a matador.
We share this space in the resistance of death
Day after day we do our dance in this place
In the middle of time.

~ B