Unseen, 
in dark unknowing;

gazing into unreflective waters,

beckoned by the deep.



A shroud of deadened sound,

in windless night, in hush.

The world, my home, 
holds its breath.



As I am,

slipping from grip, 

a yawning mist

and incorporeal.



Seeking
to define
 the indefinite,

intangible and shifting, 

ephemeral resonance.



Sluggish, in a dream;

an astral projection
of intention.


Awaken
the mind, arrested.

Unmoving, in sleep paralysis.



A voiceless song,

belonging to the lungs,

never echoed.



Choking on my death.

Unworldly breath.

What am I?

Can I not see
myself?



The mind identifies

with drifting tides. 

Unbound from time,

I cry.



An aching
sinks, 
beneath the chest
.
Within the gut, it rests.



My soul, instilled
in stillness.


My greatest wish,
a passioned kiss
with 
the intimate

unfurling
of the world 
in
ubiquitous coalition.



The breath of life
,
which fills my lungs, 

never meets the blood.



To be. 

To be.

To be

and never question.



To be free
and known,

as evidenced in vested
interest 
with my sole existence.

I want to be known.

Why can’t anyone see me?