would I remember you?

I once made a pilgrimage

towards a brilliant shrine nestled between wordy crags;

the radio bore a situationist opportunity

as we may tend to postulate

about continuance and the possibility

of further pangs of the bodily sort.

( here was the crux of the pathology)

Considerations are material in measure I tell myself.

Can it not exist without any remoteness?

I take it that the barren earth knows more than I

could ever know.

For what struggles for life

has a precept to tell;

however extended the duration,

read between the majestic cloudscape

for here resides the remedy.

of the hilly range

where setbacks are common:

 recall Gen. Crook.

What is positive: a fire fly on my window.

(chants within canyon walls diversify the mystery).

What is beneath: only the salt caves rendering belief.

I am: tunlii’

to that feeling once imaginary now implicated.  

a fatalistic scene: a synthetic violin string

evaluates the player before the dissonant chord.

there is no audience, as the emotive glance is voluntary 

unto the ending drawing no cathartic applause or finger prick.

the mumbling is over once the bread is broke and your repaired

by the thought that begins with being unrecognizable:

life as a phantom waiting to be reconsidered

the only quality that is worth more than the breath

and the word.