so swift a blade is all that matters
as the cutting edge is the now....
sharp and refined in passing.....
carving all of nothing into shreds
that we then attest to as solid as stone
trace these masquerading invisibles
with the chalk of your hand
and all that becomes evident
is in the imminently recent past
where a breath is leaving,
its work has been done
doves fly up your bloodstream
singing the wonders
of being alive . . .