Trace

is there a trace left of you beneath
your idle conversation?  is there a pause
to this automatic drive or is it your last
mode of breath desperately gasping for
scraps of substance?  
within the horizons of your timeline
did you ever stop to lay with silence
and tremble beneath its truth until
you prayed for a nightmare to free you?
have you isolated yourself within the frames
of a mirror and dissected its reflection
until you've forgotten where you end?
the lightest wind robs you of your stance,
the lightest kiss binds and blinds you.
did you ever hope for a better ending
than this false beginning?  your eyes
commit treason against your tongue
and let slip distress between the steps
of your vocal dance.  each new word
spells out your detachment.  what messiah
do you keep to save you from this?
is the final alarm just a whimpering prayer?
a short burst of ache from an otherwise
desensitized pose?  where will the next step,
the next word take you?  do you move
only to escape?  dream only to forget?
where have you been?
where are you going?
where are you now?