A Shift in Paradigm

What a wonder I have conjured

will you wander the streets for me

collecting all the scraps that come into view

Bring them back for me

all that I have to give to you

Hold my mystique in your hands

Spin me 'round while we stand planted in the sand

How you say the words you do

While salt nips the tips of your ears

will always remain a mystery to me

I might have it no other way

Mirror images of yours truly

I will gladly remain your reflection 

glancing that direction

The beauty I find remains in what I don't mind

A time, a place, the coordinates of a grid, a plane 

it makes me strain to reach to such lengths

perspective to gain.