cold sweat in my
body fragile sway
the precipice
calls me

I can't possess
you own quiet
speck of truth in
your pocket

small me to this
world held between
now then immea-
surable I

flour oil this poem
will not empty
until the truth
touch the earth

constraint me in
tiny box hold me
to a small me
giving me no

step into a
fantasy turn
to real I am
so now you can

simple now I
know you - just a
few words draw line
of you as if