quis sum ego?

in your third hour of vastness, what do you begin to imagine? is it god? is it possible?

crawling out of me like first light

the self as an expression of desire

dark with smile, a mindless flashing through

an infinite dryness of being

who are you? but i am of song only

the broken melody, the sickly way

brightness lies within it’s black form

it hides completely, waiting to happen to you

and we are this close to wasting

see the tight squeezing of my fingers

bent like great backs to swell in reveal

this is me wanting to say; this is meaning

to move breeze to stillness in offer of more

the mirror framed in light’s ramification

between my share of raven’s greed

and encyclical’s declaration of hunger

ego’s reflection, bow down to song

at the dawn of time’s death—it burned out

like devotion: heavy is word’s crown

as is the dent of god on earth: poet