Vitreous

Do you hear the rustle,
As that of silk on a sandy stretch?
Inevitable, the tone
I discern.
But how? I realize-
The question no longer holds strong,
For, all that matters seem lost-
Within the timbre soft,
And intangible pastel shades
Of tonight.

A question sometimes haunts,
Relentlessly it knells
Swooning in you-
A tinnitus,
I wonder-
Don't you share it too?
Yet, it dissolves, in a while-
And merges.
Acclimatization, it gains a name.
Does that satisfy?

The vitreous semblance
Of today,
Does it blemish the yesterdays?
It does, doesn't it?
You nod emphatically, nay?
But do you even know-
What that vitreous means?
And in the umbra of tonight,
I ask for a visor-
What for, do not ask me.
Vitreous, it shines-
Don't you but see?
You don't, nay?

Forget it all, then.
As always, the cryptic ambiguity
Gains a new name-
Impertinence, stark.