heat sinks through
my skin these days, i
can't keep it out. i can't stay
put to shed the extraneous
motion inside of me; i suppose,
if anything,
i'm contracting, collapsing.

god knows what i am willing,
but, angularly, my
motives are changing and i'm
afraid of where these
clouds lead.

am i free or just a
cast shadow of me?
am i a liar,
or do i care simply in veiled metre,
and
would i stop before i seem?