Distraction and reaction cloud
in dizzying storms surrounding 

airspace

state of grace 
no metaphor can touch.

It cannot be the primary focus.
The split.
It lurks in shadows.
Dies in sunlight like vampires.

At the very least
one might expect it all
to have skipped by in a heartbeat

like a sinking dream fragment...

you reach for it's abstract edges
slippery in sleep
with hazy eyes drifting 
to celestial rhythms

Am I rooted in earth
or spirit?

A mixture of both?

My quantum guru says all is one
       ...then disappears 

in a cloud of smoke

that someone's left 

watching.                                                                                   © 1999 by David Bozzi