VI.
I dream myself leaving, Every vehicle a boat To cross the ocean Of fictitious
being. Departure so sudden I surprise myself-- Running from the part of me I Don't like, don't understand, The pain in your
eyes. Emptiness the only pure metaphor In a world awash in language, Connotations, implications. I try to imagine myself
empty. We don't so much think our thoughts As our thoughts think us, The self a simulacrum, Metaphor for the
inconceivable. I dream myself arriving, Barefoot scurf dweller At some distant shore, Empty and
smiling. Here I am, in my breath, my Palms, soles, lips, chest, Feelings, thoughts, and the multitudinous Objects of mind.
Here I am, dweller in the elipsis, Begging salvation and forgiveness. I dream myself an old man Whose mind is like the sky.
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