a weight that can only be felt
by breathing in the wrong kind of ozone
in a desolate universe, unraveling into
rust and dirt and long-ago bleached bones
a single pair of footsteps walk
the path, beaten down by phantoms
and mysteries hanging on an unused crucifix
the rearview mirror beckons minds on
but….onto where? onto the myriad lies that
stumble and fall back into rubbles
bruising careless feet and leaving contrived
wishes of contrition and softer mumbles
and alone—alone the blackened eyes atone,
alone the bastard hair sheds like broken roses,
alone the body dances until imminent decomposition,
alone. the man seeks, but finds no symphony amid the empty chorus.