I am lost, awash in honey-light and stopped-time—
hardened, a fossil that once lived before tasting
sugary sap, becoming caught as it turned to stone.
Sunlight trapped millions of years ago has turned cold—
my desires mineralized with sublimation, my body a frozen
footprint sold at market, worn on a chain around a neck.
These words stick in their own sweet clock, less real than paint—
colorless, caught in a mind that believes itself full of pigment,
while truth remains a slippery canvas brushed from memory.