All the dead breathe
on reflection.
Is that why I’m drifting
from source to
image: you are so bright (they said),...
so empty (I know)
I am nothing and luminous
light and wind- salt and water
fit only for drowning (and sobbing)
all stars do
is lap down tears
and giggle.

Only footsteps
between futures. Time forgets
but never forgives, so why
have we thrown all our cards
down the marks of feet ...
not ours? You hold
strings in your hands
so you can fool yourselves
into puppeteers
but strings tiptoe
into nothing. You ask:
If you don't know
you’re powerless,
aren’t you the most powerful shadow
on these walls? Don’t ask.
Stamp your feet against
time
make it yours.
Your light
is only as bright
as its loudest shadow.