Learning and remembering
And the line is finer still when
What actually happened carries
In the windy ways of the mind
That plays it like a last-nerve violin
Bending on an echo of string
For an edge, when there is none
Just the stars dark and far enough apart
For an outline of home, so theoretical
Astro-cartographers can find the patterns
And claim their discovery has no meaning,
Only names from somewhere else
That get stranger the further out they seem,
The more unfamiliar they become
To green eyes behind a screen.
Every skinwalker is exposed at the bonfire
Dancing with the one ... but are they there?
What is in the dream, is there anything
Outside of me?
