beyond the drift
of days and the loss
of silver light still reside
in the hollow of my
now collapsed chest.
Astray and longing for the
unfolding of the world,
an unraveling, calling
the names, each by each,
until the tongue
swells with use,
and the lies in my
mortal life, taint my
meager history,
drifting in the
upheaval of time, and
sea, I am spent, still
the victim of currents
in a shoreless world,
Bobbing and rolling as the winds,
spice scented,
ambiguous as your pelt
ambiguous as your pelt
pushing this frail
bone, from now to then.
I bewildered between your ever tilting
poles, lost in the unspooling
of the world
that spills your words
into the sucking sound
of deceit and despair.
The drifting grows
inevitable till
the running down of
sand and water
leads to the worm
infested flesh,
my tears of passage
burns the driving world
and I to embers.
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