What you see is
I

(when I stop being an actor
I
will see the moon pulled over my eyes)

the sleep, screaming 'beauty!' into righteousness
(sinning) the heart of purity

I
perceive you as you are

because you are exactly not
(not
I)

And seeing the half-waxed moon
float (like the sea under a ship)
beneath the withering remains of a once-beautiful sky
smoothly reeling as on a string
bound to Intangible Earth by a force
like the mask over my fear and my love and
only that

the way
I
hate my love
for what it brings me, my song
my voice I am afraid of
my voice that cries soft uncertain
my depth like a wall to your Infinity

I
know nothing
in the face of everything I learned

I know you all only, and only, (and only
as my superiors), for you cannot be I,
but greater yet than all that I am


I sleep, I am worthless, for I
is not me.

01/25/2007

Author's Note: Written at least a year ago. Found this under my bed, crumpled, but I really liked it so I decided to make a couple of tiny changes and post it.

Posted on 01/25/2008
Copyright © 2025 Corey Lockaby