isn't just abstract;
if we really
looked close, perhaps
we'd see it rippling
in waves from the ends
of our fingers
and eyelashes
outward to anyplace
our bodies don't exist.
But suppose
the bright edges
which separate us from it
are so sharp
and so thin
that the slightest
careless twist
or overzealous maneuver
could shred
any stray opinion,
narrative, or wish
to ribbons
so thin
as to make it
worse than useless
to endeavor
to stitch them back
together again.
