Hidden, consumed

Your spirit, your song

Silent behind the hum of the machine

Sit, and wander

And change

With your hunger for beauty


What was left

The colors were blending

Into a purity

An oblivion

You still the chameleon

Took on the properties of nothing

Clear, invisible

Camouflaged in many colors

None that stood out

The empty airs of casual conversation

Pervading the meaningless interactions

The night dull

In the throbbing pressure of exhaustion

A wakefulness that would not end

Save for the slow ache

Of a fundamental boredom

Even the sharp points

Of discussing subversive politics

Were polished and rounded out

In the steady flow of incorporation

Carving a canyon that hollowed out the deep

A maturity of landscape

Made it seem

The desert of language

Romanticized in naivety

An old soul young in spirit

Pressed on to the bottom

The midnight river run dry

The child who dreamed it

Glistening like a midnight star

In memoriam

The mirage revealed

In the blending of your dry, coarse skin

With the unforgiving rock

Of an ancient riverbed canyon

When the water was here

It was lush, and humid

The air was tangible