when its dark
i like to look
at myself
my self in the mirror
and trace
my shape
so featureless so
full of potential i
feel so full
of light
of life
of what composes soul
and what composes soul
and what composes soul is
for now elusive
for now i see only
shadow
and borders
or is it just one border
or is it an edge
dividing
the outer man from the
inner man
myself my
self in the mirror
the bubbled thoughts
bouyant but bounded
bounding in my
grey matter the
dark matter the
heart
of the
matter
beats
in my
mind but
does it matter
i ask myself
my self in the mirror
who has no face
no mouth to speak of
it could be any mouth
or none at all
and that thought thrills me
the form
that i see
the body
it could be
average
nice
young
old
nasty
everlasting
but i hope not
not to be macabre
but to be
or not to be
is still the question

whether tis nobler to the divine to suffer
the confusion of the modern age
or to take one s life without delay
and thus by testing prove faith

if there is a god
what does she see
with righteous eyes
his downward gaze
just beams in wavelengths imperceptible
photons and protons
and that goddamn higgs boson
but does it really see us
when we put our goddamn shows on
for our eyes only