Another grenade-like hope exploded.
A bitter flavor folded into the fabric of impressions.

I am the snake beneath the skin.
I am un-refracted, un-reflected.

In my acrobatic display of hubris I
Saw my hands and spoke to them:
"These are mine and mine alone."

I will be a second rate iteration of myself,
Carried by a squirming ember of pride

To its—logical conclusion.

So wave goodbye to the forecasts,
To the sun and the gold-plated rain.

Just let it go out, let it go out.
Your heart explains as it walks away.