SELF-PORTRAIT AS THE UNKNOWN

the question always remains at the tip of the tongue. the reminiscent scent unnamed. the shadows in dreams, there by your own creation, nestled in the spine-tingling step into suspicious squelch.

  ∗

  all the living

  worth remembering

  happens

  ∗

who is the architect of the fool’s journey? who is to say we must begin fearless, potential-filled and accompanied by some favor?

      ∗

  when

  you are

  [breathing]

      ∗

who is to say reversed wasn’t upright all along?

  ∗

  thank the moments

  it is clear

  that you are

  choosing

  ∗

rumor has it a good carpenter would always build

a hidden slot in their desk. only few would know

where the secrets were placed. only few could

figure out where the secrets rest. place yours there.

mark it in ultraviolet. you’ll want someone to know

you like this when you’re gone.

  ∗

  existing

  as the singularity

  you are

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