This is nobody’s universe
life of an unknown entity
morning is morning, very old
and night swivels around
carrying a piece of pain’s history
this part of adventure, very old
what’s older is our sanity
our sonorous journey
those homely decayed Mondays
are trimming, and keep trimming
snatching away any visual memory
places that shine powerlessly
with might and altered energy
will they just let you speak up
uttering nobody’s words
into which we’re swooped
—being swollen
which life is mine, which is yours
we’re too old to know
that there’s a shimmer anyway
in every path of whose destiny
