A silver wire frayed
From my hair as
I washed my hands
With my reflection
Today.
Time is coming and
Time is going.
But somehow I stay here
Waiting
For my time.
Such is the undertaking of
A project in years.
I tell them that
I am two-thirds done
After two years of work.
It seems that way,
I think.
Then the followup question:
What is it about?
As if it’s some tattoo,
And then the answer
…
Then there is the true answer:
The plot is secondary.
I am me 