Shape Shifters


Make space as I
Shift into sea foam origami,
Water filling its vessel

I won’t wait for the known
To slough the rough edges
Into marbled stone

I do not mark expiration dates
Popping bubbles to the
Tick of time

I have completed my stitch,
Threading empty holes
Into netted catch

Beating words of meaning,
Wearing pleasurable feathers
To give flight

I have cut myself into infinity
Choking on shards of fickle light,
Careful of crystalline cuts

For it is the writer consuming
Their characters, nailing them to page,
Playbills starring ourselves


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