Translucent host earthbound.
Flow through me.
Form a puddle on the ground.
Unmistakably in these clear moments.
A moan from my former self.
‘Feet don’t fail me now.’
in due course,
the dereliction of blood and what it may sport.
All intent on defiling this jester’s court.
When atoms will do what they will.
Traveling, free-floating and benign.
In a picture of still-life…I cannot help but feel like a manned puppet broken by design.