perhaps i am
a figment
semi autonomous
collecting dust
until a
stray thought
summons me
back into being

a silver glimmer
a tickle caught
in the back
of your throat
a nuisance
an annoyance
a sharp pain
running ramshackle
along trigeminal
nervousness

an indistinct
wrecking ball
hanging myself
in the darkness
just outside of
actual being

a loose collection
of tattered flesh
cocooned about
a ball of fleeting
insubstantiiality
the shadow of
a terrible dream
chill shivers
in the morning light

imaginary inside
my own insignificance
brief turbulence
shimmering momentarily
across the smooth face
of infinity