fascinate.   to be shade cast by   the forms of mortal men.   the light cuts around my body,   revealing evidence of times   before my presence.   it fascinates.   or am i ghosts?   without a revelation   walking a moving line.   and when the comatose   is finite i will remember   important details,   or will nonsense   be my explanation?   all out lives are lies,   and when it's conscious,   we'll be dead.