Mirage

In darkness, each ache adds to an outline of your inhabited shape. Whatever is left over that is not body claws from the inside trying to get out. In the end you settle for hole in the mind, perhaps finding a quiet hollow in the walls of an evening, a place overlooking a river where its waters widen into a blissful sleep. Though, this is never enough, a mere substitute as when words fly off in search of meaning and briefly catch the sun on the turn of their outstretched wings only to collapse into a watery mirage strung across the horizons of yourself.