Territorial Dispute

Midnight's trigonometry casts
oh what a shadow!
My laying torso
across  the entire wall
I am
a sleeping buddha
 
A cloud of cosmic dust hovers
densly like myst
upon a once volcanic peak
 
I never imagined that these ghosts from lightyears away would return at such an hour
 
whispering horrors
into the lobe's cavern
 
In my closing decades
the pains and frights of a shivering child
reenter the skin
 
burrow into unacquainted crevices
 
poison what remains
of innocence
 
Second naivity wrestles with a resurrected first
My Esau clutches for the crown
Jacob's grip on his heel slips away
 
The last droplets taste like sand
 
The suade slips from my hand,
drops upon the drum with one last lament
 
an unanswered question

along with my worn out tent