I get caught up watching for meteors,

watching out for ropes,

for waters, about to rise.

Watching for shadows,

and seeing some of those same reflections.

Tiptoeing with a flashlight is one way to go,

but ill surely choose another,

and break my ankle,

and fall on my sword,

loud enough to wake everyone up ,too.

hypothetically,

cowardly.

Maybe you’ll eventually see the shadows I was waiting up for

and you’ll be less scared of them than I am or ever was.

You’ll be less frenetic than I am, than I ever was.

You’ll be more kinetic than I am, than I ever was,

at the moment,

up to my waist, at the moment

and up to my chin, at some point.

Up to my recollections,

which are wholly underwater now,

swimming with me,

swimming beside me

and how many times can I repeat it

copy and pasted.

crisp, cowardly sounds,

strokes, and sins that bounce off the walls,

off of me.

copy and pasted

copy and pasted

copy and pasted

off of those those sometimes pastel reflections,

and off an eventual , pastoral cliff.