You think
you've got
no place to go—but then,
what could it mean
to go anywhere
"later?"
"later?"
Leaving
is as meaningless
as coming in this
present-tense,
and the future
is not a location
in space.
*
You hear a robot voice saying
"caution: step back,"
"caution: step back,"
and, eager
as you've always been
to harmonize a melody,
you behave
like all of the waves
which comprise you
and do exactly
as you're told.
*
with the relentlessness
of the notion
that something always
must come next.
You don't know
what that something
is, but
if you squint just right
with the eye
in your mind,
you can see
a blurry text
which takes
the approximate shape
of faith.