the leaves rustle
leaving a haze of
indistinct duplicity
the way shadows
flicker and change
in an eclipse
no matter how hard
i strain to see them
they are intangible
in their duality
existing somewhere
between two broken planes
the more i stare
the less sure of
my place in the universe
a casual observer
documenting tragedies
not quite alive
yet chained to life
wondering why no one
ever asked the boulder
why it needed so desperately
to reach the top of
that goddamned hill
sisyphus got what
he had coming to him
but that poor rock
seems to take the brunt
of the criticism
the sun is too bright
or my head hurts just
a little too badly
the leaves are plotting
something nefarious
and i feel close to tears
about a fucking boulder
slipping in between
the cracks in the facade


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