space is where all the good stuff is happening
and our son plays and falls of a cliff
and dies and we think about self
and what if it changes
and we talk of mirror and skin –
the confusion we are in.
whenever you say you ll be closing the door
you end up fondling the handle.
nothing on this table’s mine.
nothing on this bed is mine.
it may have been, for a short time.
nothing in this room is mine.
countless transmigratory beings
we dont need more champions –
we need need just some of them, and else – more people of good intention, champion or servant.