Alchemical winds
guide matter, groaning against
the firmament in its
transmigration:
foundations of the world.

Such madness;
as a heavenly body
turns its face, revealing and
concealing at once;
as a fruit fly
clones its black
cloak under the
plain daylight;
as a hat
lies upon a coat rack,
and haunts us at all
ungodly hours of the night.
A ghost! - one that
we mistake for whole.

Such empty evil
as a vessel that consumes others
like itself cannot be a sin
greater than creation.
And as all things cast shadows
in the light,
so walks a shadow
that some call a friend -
a visitor born of the same
fate as your own!