All life —
is it
one
anticlimax
or
two
?
You cannot undo
what you
have
not
done
.
You
cannot
undo
what
you
have
done
.
You can be
in more than one place
at the same time,
just not awake
in both.
Dream in or
of either neither
will stay, though one
would that it could.
The world —
divided —
turns from itself, gone
early as late,
the way home has
no light.
Home ennobles the dark,
regardless of condition.
Shape refills once formerly framed,
a field without abundance,
the place without its name.
Humble begins what dignity
acquires, peace preserves, kept safe
in solitude existence
confirms: relief, arrival
as proof no dialogue could
welcome, on another side.
The myth
retold,
foretold
as if it mattered,
that,
the fiction:
this ―
its truth,
a
liar.