A box; now the most important part in my life.
I find now, as I look at you
My fear is greater towards you than our box;
Our beautiful box.
I wonder, often, if my fear for yourself and the box is based not on its message
But on you.
Based on you and the similarity of you and the box to my past.
Yet, people were never jealous of that box; it was broken from the start.
A third side of the box catches the world's attention.
But they feel almost uncomfortable paying attention to it.
As though they shouldn't;
As though they are intruding.
But there is such beauty in this side too.
They see beauty where I cannot.
Boxes in the eyes of the box's face
But nobody understands it like we do. They may see boxes
But we see a lack of words; something unexplainable.
Or we did.
Now I look at the face and see a distortion.
This is wrong, it should speak and not see - the visual gets us nowhere.
Take this box and the world around us; there could be anything within but nobody cares.
Endless eyes watching one another.
Boxes filling the eyes as the sky and the earth swirls between them.
Chocolate in the sea.
Sight flows ever-free.
But can you see it? Truly see it?
These eyes which watch us are losing their boxes and we too are losing our box.
I'm afraid. Afraid of losing it.
People are always so jealous of this box; our box.
Because they think they would never lose it; that they would nurture it and it would never leave their lives.
But they do not know what is in this box.
Tell me, what is within?
Never, do we dare open our beautiful box of belief.