Dim blur pools to form the shape
of wind this time, spills
weightless shadow on mind’s veil.
Reason’s dogma must
dissolve in space and distant lie.

Otherwise, between perception,
intuition and all things,
you’ll stare at the wall, unmoved.
More still in flesh than
undeveloped photographic

elements discarded, turned away,
frightened of exposure.
We are both pools of shapely
vision, weightless veils
and shadow stones, turning time.