Your soul--the essence of being--long ago carved in cold stone
Now
caught in the fierceness of your sanctimonious self-imposed solitude
yearns to break free
Yet, the mind, feverish with the intensity of keeping stone cold composure
is keenly wary of icy blue-eyed souls looking for a misstep
So, you sit, heart and mind in frozen isolation, awaiting
the carvers to chip away at your marbleized existence
Only tonight...
your laugh echoes strident across the glacial surfaces of your once warm bosom
there they had hoped to find coals
but instead, cool green kryptonite glows

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