We can’t be proven
To exist

only those who exist recognize existence

as the world twists
its inanimate enormousness

Nothing is so unusual

Yet set up so suitable

as the thought that

all you knew

will ultimately be mutable

you’ll be known by those
people;
but every body goes
When the reaper pulls
cloths off mortal tables
for the wash

souls are plentifully
full of free energy
sentimentally and chemically

I’m time too—
Just like you

see
how
now is
he and she
adding time
to this reality
resetting the clock
letting the newborn heart
start to tick and tock and walk
and talk to the beat of their own two feet?