do you
practice this
these practices of
an actor or pen actress
twisting worlds in acrobatics of ink
even tingling inklings of eden
trickling evenings in cups to drink?

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nothing is
what it seems
it hatches
leaving foot prints back to dreams

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I’m sure
you’re not sure
if what you were
will be secure
in the past
if what will be gone
can ever last

I am
not defying
them and theirs

rather
I am trying
to say that there’s

no way
to erase the
breaths of air

you’ve already taken

I theorize
you’re always alive
once your eyes awaken

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