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You are

all creatures I do

not recognize,

and still I climb,

hands tied, up

a worn rope

to gaze inside a gut.

All I see

is aflame.

I have written

down my name

many times, each

memory is more

scrambled

and strange to me.

So we take

photographs of mirrors

and move in reverse.

Someone here is

powerless precisely

because we do not believe.

This is how it goes.

A god dies

every day.

I would dream

another but

I could not cause it

to behave.

I am

only a will,

a network I can't

create. An inactive

appetite

has brought me here

weakly, I make no

appointments or promises.

A voice inhabits us.

-the ambassador