A Decade Later

Alive

There is life
in everything,
around us.
But mostly
it's not alive.
Life exists
in sleep,
and the
waking up,
The moments
where
blurred vision
shows
things
hazy,
yellow, orange
stripes merged
on a curtain,
patches
undefined
on a wall,
Sounds muffled
coming
from the other
room,
as if they
were talking
in the head.
The past, the present,
resisting
and emerging
in thought.
Life exists
in childhood,
not knowing
what's right
or wrong,
Life exists
in confusion,
in afternoons,
slow, drenched
in nausea.
Life exists
not,
in moving.
That's only
the idea
of Life.
Life is
standing still.
Life is,
a limping dancer
at the first rehearsal
trying
to do
what it can't,
Life is a vision
of Death,
and Death is
a reflection
of life.
Life is naught.
Life is...