Forlorn Shapes

Beside these forlorn shades,
there are no realities to my existence,
abreast
these margins
by my dimming consciousness.

There is nothing but the recognition of the forlorn shapes,
and to solidify them as reality
in the laceration of time
in the artifice of selfhood.

Genesis chapter is between nothingness and waves,
swelled and dimpled,
distended and hollow
unceasingly knitting the woollens of
absoluteness with ephemeral threads.

flux
dissolves in stillness
like a mouth in candy,
while being melted.

Dust
settles in the still life of nullity
or else, they forever dance with motions.

They pass through hourglasses
to create
the time.