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at the bottom of the glass…
at
the bottom of the glass
cold currents cut between us
I saw oceans and islands
separated
isolated
these bodies
these others
they seemed empty
sure
we are not concrete
and we are ephemera
shifting constellations
a
flux "consciousness"
"awareness" "mind"
is it more than a jig
an air
shadows
swimming
in bliss and fear
illusions
confusions
momentary clarities
stones
in a muddy field
a puddle of twigs and leaves
the almost truths
the
almost real
ghost wanderings
looking for a home
looking for a reason
clinging
to a name
and its all just a drunkard's ramblings
no sooner come then gone
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