Ecce Homo
When you look at me, Do you see a man? Do my rough shapes Coagulate in mock divinity? These arms, these hands, These eyes, these lips, Dissolve and fall apart, I cannot hold. We are mainly empty space, The gaps between the atoms, The void between the stars, The catch Of breath before the ending. An imaginary image, Reflected and refracted And distorted in your gaze, Like morning mist That dissipates too soon; Identity in liminality. Still she who dwells within Cries out, And wonders why We cannot hear. See me.