i strip back
so much
i wonder
at my own
insubstantiality

the breeze rustles
through my ribcage
making my
dessicated lungs
flutter
like wooden chimes
against my
stillheart

silt and dreamshards
scattered
in a rough approximation
of where
a fool once sat

my skin
spins
on the breeze
like trash
on the side
of the highway
with words
no one will read
inked
in teardrops
down scruffy cheeks

the koi swims, orange and black against the clear pond waters, darting between lily pads in search of shade from the noonday sun, a phantom with mouth agape, idiotic in routine, grown fat from the pellets tossed by strangers