You're but reflected
in the back-sides
of my sights.
Just like a dragonfly.
I see things double.
First, as they come on up behind me
as reflections
in the dark and lonely lenses
of my world-view.
And second,
past their getting even with me,
as they run over, and ahead,
making me a shadow of themselves.
And that's exactly what I am.
The fly.
The chimera.
The not in-human drag-on.
Relentlessly they drag on, like the words
un-said, and thus un-heeded.
Or, some birds
up on a high wire, a long time not working.
All but reflections.
Same in repetition.
Of quivering dismembrance,
to behold
this otherwise unholdable non-being.
29 июля 2025 г.
Non-being to behold
© Copyright: Андрей Тюков, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125072906609
Свидетельство о публикации №125072906609
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