I have been, others
more often (than); myself
caught up in the chasing tales
they then, becoming truth
more so than ever I thought
(or wanted)
the running toward
space occupied formerly reserved for never
reaching
goals, transmuted to if--then
contingencies
nearly feeling
and not having
what alternative when process becomes
an end
(maybe) this is good;
fear shakes me
rattles loose that old
and alive
shamblebodied && word dancing
self, from another long
slumber
