[enter name here]

everyone speaks of you.

as if you are a ghost.

as if you are a god.

but i know you just well enough.

enough to know you are tangible.

a cave bear, hiding in the shadows.

shying away from the forces of man.

from a life of uncertain crossroads.

you are no ghost, you are a hibernator.

one day you'll awaken

and claim your place among men,

but men will be no more.

The Operation

A box of lies, or hopeful truths. Contrived harmony.

A mime's construction and interpretation of some future.

Leave me alone, a declaration prompts a crack in the frame.

A mime's box of lies, hopeful truths in harmony.

Inside a clear hovering future, a fine-spun marble.

The box closes in on emptiness, on the composition.

The marble cracks, pressured by its lost significance.

Leave me alone, a spoken plea, a gap in the box.

Purple and blue glass threads pull apart, decompose.

The synched musical ensemble goes silent, marble gone.

The fat lady sang off key.

Operation complete.