swiftly goes the reflection

The eye to eye seeing

of me in the midst--

revolution.

You of the past

running, screaming

into the labyrinth.

The bones of images

twisted to form

lyrics to songs

about death and direction.

A captive warrior

becomes a captive audience.

Succumbing to the fracturing

of selves

into multiple millions

with the same functioning organs.

And what can we hope to gain

from trying to comprehend,

infinity being carried on the back of a dust mite.