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                                                 My imagination is
                                                 fixed on horizons of
                                                 my design, no footprints
                                                 to follow and none
                                                 shall I leave, save the
                                                 traces in your memory.

                                                                         In less than a
                                                                         yoctosecond I can
                                                                         cross the solar system
                                                                         and just as quickly
                                                                         return—utterly unnoticed,
                                                                         owing to your time-space
                                                                         conformity. 

                                                       You can’t envision a
                                                        life beyond your
                                                        discernible body—I’m 
                                                        a continuum of stunning 
                                                        probabilities.

                                               Years have long since
                                               passed—I saw your 
                                               spirit one night. 

                                                                                             It was homeless.
 

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