Proof

From a smudge
A half hidden spot of
Pale light that did less to
Illumine the darkness
Than give proof
To just how
Dark it was.

I waited for my soul
To blister

in the light of

that smudge

that reflected -

barely -

in the tatters of

skittering clouds,

high above

silvered pavement

and drifting snow.

I waited for my soul
to blister
for my skin 
to spark.
I wait for fire to
fill me
and move me
in the pale and
simmering light
of smudged darkness.
I wait for
proof,  
was flooded 
with doubt.
Still I dance in smudged
darkness, on silvered
pavement and drifting
snow. I wait,
dancing.