My shadow moors me like an anchor,
Spins infinite circles-
Runs me aground.
Ticks the stories off the hurried seconds,
Becomes time itself-
Wrinkles my brow.
Sets the sun to race the horizon,
Drowns it in darkness-
Immures me in itself.
Retrieves a sallow moon from the night,
Dots the sky with stars-
Burdens me to sift through dreams,
Prowls on a tight leash-
Breaks into a sweat.
Tears future’s drape of ‘morrow,
Scrambles present in a bag-
Mixes it with past.
Silently awaits its ritual immolation,
Quivers against me imperceptibly-
Bleeds pieces of dark.