Nothing's left unscathed by my fingerprints;
Fabricating the familiar phrases, you can't
Escape my impressions or eloquence,
Silvering keys unlocking the doors
Of the gap between us,
Of what sense to make of this?
Sit a while, and filter light
That dances upon a screen,
Connecting you and me.
Encompassing, engulfing
The span of eternity.
Rhyme and reason falter
With much discretion:
Compunction of a clockmaker
Tactfully in shambles-
They fall apart at the seams of seconds.