the words wrapped in the shadows teach me how to bleed. in the hollow spaces of night, all is you. all is a search for you. souls lay atop each other on reality's dark fabric. your sight on top of mine. we are all 7 billion golden sights, blinking in on a pebble.
we're everything to each other. yet nothing. we search for ourselves. because we are ourselves. we try to be other people. but the boxes are too tight.
(the last of the rain hangs from leaves, waiting lucidly for the final moments. in between cloud and ground, they wait. giants to an insect.)