Ross Kelly copywrite February 2008

I am outside, with you. I am a man of riddles, of words that will make me any such thing I desire to be. I am outside this time; I am a man of giant proportions, but a single irreplaceable core, and a single eye which will never be perturbed into seeing that which it does not desire to see.

Walking down the sidewalk, under a footbridge of cement, I run my hand alongside a copper metal sidewalk railing. I turn into one atom and I am instantly on the mirror side, where I become a walking shadow, still alone with you, my world.

I perch along the side of a bent pole, flying, not hiding. I am very light, but this is all I need, because the core is one of pure black. I have but one body untraceable in this world. I am now in the room.

You try your plans, but to break your heart I have already called for help, and let the neutral justice tackle you to the right side of the room, as I float through the room in three half assed decided leaps, I am standing solid in front of you.

I put my thoughts into my hand and move it through the air to you. You are gone until the morning, after I wake, noticing you hauled away like the trash you are. Unperturbed I am still nothingness, but you are so low, I do not need to associate anymore.

I move through the world, regaining my strength, causing confusion, a sign of my presence and knowledge as a person too.

I end my story on the cement, head in hands, solid yet defiled by my own white washed heart.