Last night communing with the,
much more than anything,
but still not quite,
echoing in worlds beyond this one,
if it pierces,
empties out carefully
What is it that is never quite,
intact or playfully,
ask the sages to reconsider,
paths to the sun,

Wonderful it will be to reach,
apexed or transcedent,
finger tips dusty or removed,
which is the endpoint subtracted,
faces that are familiar,
but are no more,
bottle green,
they are everything but sad,
dowsed in caffeine again,
heart is drowning in,
stolen courage,
the day passes away,
lost and fragmented.