Here's a shiny black notebook
for all your dreamtime thoughts
Of how you must subdue the world
to be an equal,
Using the flames of the stars
to cast your light.
In this corner, you, in the other, everything else,
how you manage to parry and feint
Even if the images you box are shadows
and the cheers are for someone else.
Still, you carve yourself in the book of heroes,
though the face and name are not yours,
It is only the others, needing their mirrors
of a fool trying to do in the sun,
The way we are the same without even knowing,
cursed with having to be the only one.
The voice that comes to you now from a distance,
instead of leading you home, sounds like
All the voices that throb in your head
vying to be the one voice
That speaks for all humanity, safely asleep
and alone. There is no other sound
Than one's breathing, though the wind
and a beautiful sight always take it away.