I want to write very tiny
so that who I am
will not attract nor repel
whatever matters
in the universe.
So tiny still that my words
run together and my thoughts
melt into one long anonymous line
threading its way between worlds
of alienations. . .
An orderly succession of half-lives
until at the appointed time
of the cosmic clock,
the last is reached
and heaven is entwined
in the stark stop-still
of things.
January 1991
