I sit in lukewarm water
and ponder what is real.
The water's growing colder,
a shiver running through my body; a feel.
The sun was going down, with stars at her heels;
distant sounds of a liberation from a blindness that touches perfection,
ache at the threshold, is all of this abstraction?
Abandoned reflections, curiosity and a world view of raggedy patches and muddled complexions,
dragging my steel chains through the world with eyes upon me.
Apocalyptic novelty, this is just a vagary,
a small puppet draped over the gutters of infinity.
The night begins and delicately I stand ready.