'In God, I breathe.' In Life, I don't.
His hands touch water under the bridge
but not the man who bathes there.
foreign fantasies deactivate my belief system.
an all knowing....
except Himself and His identity:
mr. melancholy is masked as mr. master.
but the rhetorical wonderment in my mirror,
'to breathe or not to breathe'
that is the quest-
to shin contact
is the last drum as clouds cover my blind observations.