Tuesday, February 12, 2019

Mere Icicles, Us

Actually, what if I did?
And if I’m not, actually?
What if I’m not and I did?

Not-portrait of what I self.
Not-self of what I portray,
Who has no I left.

What if even I
Can’t claim it or can’t know it?
After the blackout,
After the moon disappeared,

The continuity lied.
What crawled back out of the mud
And ice was a ghost,
A something had died.

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