A Man
A man
(I guess, after all these foggy years lost,
I can still, legitimately, call him that/this),
A man I once thought I knew/knew me,
One day slipped into the diaphanous veils
Of (would you call it ether?/might you call it forgetting?) oblivion,
Where he/I/we found ourselves stranded together/apart,
Flailing/groping for that elusive opening in the soul
Both of us suspected must/might be out there, somewhere,
In the silence of that still, thin, distilled, rarefied air
To which disappeared spirits repair
When existence fails to recompense them with succor's glue.
And in that birthplace of severely undiminishable anonymity,
Located between the sheer lunar cliffs of deathless desperation
And the cosmic clouds scudding above forever's nowheres,
That man
(Whatever elements of his foggy years lost
Can be said to persist, amidst the dust of atomized oneness),
Or whichever, if any, of his incarnations/identities/simulacra
Could be considered/construed as yet evolving/devolving,
Awakened on the cusp of my awakening yawn
And announced a definitive pattern to his/my/our stopped clockwork,
As if he/I/we intended to quest for an infinity of essence
Hidden within the crypts of his/my/our disembodied hearts.
Then, starting out from this/that inconspicuous now/then,
That/this man, so pastly lost in the stratification of absence,
Step by breath by second,
Began his/my/our trek toward this thatness/that thisness,
Following a path illuminated by the farthest stars' pulsations,
Its beckoning trajectory set by my craving for immortality.
04/07/11 - (1)
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