Here’s to the great voyage:
And to passionless crimes,


(The lack of humanity and abandoned care)

I live among the
myriad of shadows,

Whose uneven gusts,
tickles
the hairs of children

and prods
at the inner cilia
of girls’ noses

I hide
in the yellowing, smelly pages
of hidden worlds

My brain
Swollen with confusion
and probed with secrets

whose tender veins
echoes sweep

I look into your eyes
but I leave my faith
with the dead

For those gone, won’t
let me down

Only holding up
The dim lantern
and relentless hand lighting up
my World