It's
A framed picture
Of
Something
You never wished
Another to
See

There she stands:
Stoic in that millimeter
Moonlight;
Vanishing from your eye
As soon as a memory
From July.

That's her.
She's me.
I am her
When

I want me
To be.

I'm a naked leaf
Upon a
Crippled tree of
Invisibility.

Thank God
For
Fiction so, so, for what?

So we can make sense
Of
All this
Non-

Sense!

It's a screen of smoke
You and I.

We wait for you and
You wait for I -

And there we sit:

Sitting, Standing, Saluting,
A desolate dawn without a name;
The only reason to be because Nature
Made it be so

And will continue

To do so.

I'm awake
As
I sleep.

I think of the glaze
As I stare
Out of myself.

I hear
The harp.
It plays for itself as I

Let it

Play through

Me.