no one exists

integrity confined to
the hint of a dream
like excitement
a fading wisp of smoke

a body that lingers
like the end of a season
rusted hues, dry and shadowed
overlooking cracked glass

scraps of dignity
empty into a paper bag
identity washes down
and away with a chaser

the truth screaming
of dearth and a wasteland
knows no today
let alone tomorrow

almost invisible
a world below the surface
runs parallel to bustle
runs over the ledge

no one notices.