Qui Suis Je

the paper edge

ticks along

lifting me from my error…

 

I am not noticed

this spark, this colour, this ache

these words

and it is right, as right as can be in a moving illusion

 

to overlook

 

attention is like glue

 

liquid is the way

liquid is this vessel and contained

 

something bigger

but infinitesimally small

 

I wander a rambling lie

I revel a pressing deceit

I awake in a flaunting dream

 

who am I to be commanding release?

really, I ask

qui suis je?

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