the tiny penumbra that forms on the dotted i
a wink, a sun, a pool, a ray of manta light
all these and more obscure the crescendo
when wind and bells peal through your heart
strips you of
emotion
well you have become a god now
a number embedded in the singular eye
a sink, a pun, a new way of taking flight
less the sum, the sun was warm, when still i
ran polluted through chasms to an open bay
well you have become a god now
in case of hope
panic