my mind,
it thinks in rhythms and double times.
there is a beat in my head
beyond my heart.
soft and easy doubt.
such silence in this residence.
I grow sloppy for want of reason.
how is it that uncertainties
so mellow at first
can creep upon us in
a universe with no want of distraction?
when I know there is no echo
that can reflect back to me
what I want to hear most from my own lips.
at the edge again of a vast and empty chasm.
where my head will wonder, I know not.