Myriad Muddle

I am writing a coffin which my intention—

—Will never feel,

Will never receive,

Will never understand.

I am giving heat to the sun.

The world laughs at me.

There is no need.

I am the blue of the sky.

I hate it when the sun shines.

I am the mirror which reflects--

—Another reflection.

I am differentiating abstract –

—from the anonymous.

I am descending to deceive—

— Myself, on my own.