Intentions beyond this ledge are jagged cliffs, pine trees and a lonely lake. Sorrow of a lost arrow, misdirected. It's not enough to open your hands and say come away with me. It's not enough to close one's eyes and not see the painful landscape where I once lived. Murky water, thick as milk, I was treading so long in. Now the ghost is back, coming into view--and each step closer, just as fearful of losing again. Grasp me, quick. Pull my nakedness in with your warmth. Open me up to possibilities of strength and heights of mountains again.