( )

I no longer wish; I only move to warming moments

scuttle in the claw of my wiry webs -- they should break

have broken by now

I've built troughs I now must fill

with salt water before the tower collapses

What is this citadel I am under? 

What is it I await?

What is this effect I desire? 

I should be curling

into a nothing of awakened satisfaction 

or else

a something of pitted mountain

this will not do

this will not do 

I was beautiful Wednesday. 

I was confused and frightened, 

Thursday morning. 

By Thursday afternoon, 

I was beaten. 

I was soft and faking it, Friday. 

Here I am Saturday evening, 

Here I am a shadow-wait

Here I am I am able I can make 

of this like the others before me 

here I am here I am here I am 

like nothing you've ever seen

a shadow-wait.

a beamer.