Can you speak my name?
I chew only air, this substance
all shadow, as though sipping coffee
at the shore of the world waters
would invoke the spirit hovering
above the darkness of the whole-souled one.
What can a mere shadow say to another
but to acknowledge insubstantiality
like blood in our veins,
the flow of emptiness birthing
the moments of our form
dancing on fire-flickered walls
of Plato's cave deep
in our imaginary minds.