Scrawny and hushed as a heuristic melancholy of mature age, it
Hints my awkward gait, a trail dragged and stumbled
Among my still insecure limbs. After sunset, lost and crumbled,
Dutifully it promises me fidelity. When the lamp is lit,
Obfuscated by dilution, it grows and splays on walls. Humbled
With invisibility by unison of rays at sunshine, it vanishes as illicit
Specters that seduce you in dreams’ realms as irrefutable myths.