it'd be ridiculous to envision the outward

appearance of oneself thinking, only to

be lost in a lack of resemblance.

when the writing of poetry occurs--

i'm occasionally a spectral robe on a hanger,

hooked on to air.

i get wet across state lines & whisper the fall,

of the same system that will reproduce

different raindrops overnight into

tomorrow.

we're highly conversant, but its point of

contention is overnight into tomorrow.

it'd be ridiculous to envision itself while

raining, as well as our divergent paths.

only to be lost in a lack of resemblance.