"There is a boundary to men's passions when they act from feelings; but none when they are under the influence of imagination." - Edmund Burke.

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THE BOUNDARY

What feelings do I have now?
-Choked voice, repentance exploding the face muscles.
-Names explaining some events,
And events defining those names and myself.
Had I not grown, I would not have repented.

Why do I feel them now?
The stone has turned to sand.
I am driven to a threshold,
Between Saturation and normalcy-
The boundary, that emotes to me.
Sincerity would saturate the emotion,
Diplomatic faithfulness, lengthen the process.

I stop at faces;
Ponder about similar levels of saturation.
The faces catalyze my memories
As solutes of the watery flakes, of panorama.
I catch them before they dissolve;
I never caught them when they dissolved.
I can see them clearer and better,
As the flakes sublime before my eyes.
Two films characterize my eyes-
One makes me cry,
And the other is tears.

Neither can the flakes be collected,
Nor can the film be touched.
The solvent is also abstract,
But the solute is real.

I am pulled down by gravity
And I bring down the boundary.
Now I have it at the horizon
Rather behind the sky.