My move is the cornered rat
My smooth is the mirror crack
My groove is the hissing cat
My moon is the cheese weighed trap
My time is the captured sand
My line is the grasping hand
My space is the sunset strands
My pace the sine of ridged tin cans
Where the thoughts coalesce
Where bad blood coagulates
Where the wind gathers specks
And deposits timeless anchors
Where the cost is a rest
Where the price is a dead snake
Where the heart stretches out
And with childish wonder, creates
There I recede
After navigating
The perilous divine lights
That blind and bewilder me