grows sick of your figure
wreathed in the old fogs
the old befuddling fear and love
it wishes to throw you off
to send you spiraling down where you demand to be
to, in damning you, set itself free
you must stop it says
reaching with your skeletal hands
to grasp at me
unclean unclean
stay where you belong
and i would take you further
it would throw you into the past
i would cast you farther
back and back again
till you fall beyond my wavering timeline
teetering on the dot that marks
my beginning, my grand entrance
and are lost forever in the sporadic numbers
that blur into the unknowable infinite
and i would never see you again.
My future wishes to restrain you to the past.
My present wishes you never were.
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