Wrap

Cloths of gauze

the footfalls of many before

show us the way

we are travelling

mapped unknown

the locusts were here, for a time.

Cloths of silk

a swathe of transparency

i will follow you into

the tent, we are

knowingly mapped,

no others are here.

Wood and brick
concrete binds the 

travellers, lovers, as dwellers
of houses which
shelter their vulnerabilities
We stay there, for a time.

Air and fire
the vapour of intangibles
bind dreams of those
who clothe each other
with themselves,
We are here, for a time.