fed the notion
of accomplishment

human environment

made
up

to know to know to know
you can't project what isn't captured
and light flies too fast

and my hands are so clumsy

expectation is artifice
made
up

does it get us any closer to earthen hands
those of use
in a way without eyes

flinging pigment
and there's an image
careless seeming
but so specific

as the sleeping moments
feed the waking ones
am I a bridge to be walked across?

there are people in my dreams that I recognize
even if only as a fragment of
that they are
they ask me to elucidate
and are still waiting

I am made to believe that the waiting continues
while i'm awake
trying to make it clear myself

but time flies so fast
and even though my hand is growing steady
there is a tremor that is the root
the bone