Space Lake

Warm breath, exhaled
forming galactic nebulae in
the cold void between city noise
and the quiet darkness of the lake

joining the twinkling words
left there last week

Lost Words

I lost my words today
in the dark by the lake
felt them fall quietly
to join the lone reflection of a star
as the cold burned the last sounds
off my lips
under the pale suburban sky

Origins (Glass Labyrinth III)

All your origins are still stuck between
your toes as you run, barefoot,
across the shards of the universe
as the glass of realities collapsing
rains down on you

[you press the thoughts against your chest, reabsorbing the tears and the greatness, running with cuts under your feet and a sense of urgency snatching the threads out of your hands as your being blends into the cataclysm, and entangled you push on]

and those who remember will know you
by the embers of constellations burning
on your forehead
tracing the steps of your flight
through the catastrophic failure
of words building worlds breaking worlds, cascades of cyphers, glyphs marking your hands

as you still wonder, running,
when did the labyrinth grow so big

~~
(The part in square brackets is optional at this stage; undecided whether it’s actually part of this piece or a meta comment.)