Paper Darts Poem by Mark Heathcote

My eyes fall on you like paper darts
Blank and expressionless
Never hitting their target; internally
I'm already too battered to reach you.
And now you're an unfamiliar mountain range
I'm even too weak to circle and follow you
Into cavernous shadows where I took my distant rest
Hoping nuggets of gold would exhume my chest.
Hoping that the north face of the Eiger
Will be ice-carved in steps that'll reach a summit
Where the winds rage, but stops - drowns in the pause
Like paper planes as they fall back down to earth.
Again toppled in surprise that there is some ground
Only a small ridge a ledge we can both hold on to
Till we either tear, ourselves apart or learn to float
On ethers hot cooling without a dark cloud in sight.
Or crash in some valley never to hear an echo!
A heartbeat a crease on White paper
That has never been, finger marked or scrawled
Awaiting that misplaced fold in, the wrong place.