(poem) waiting

[mister c]

riddles in the dark
play across your lip
like spiders darting for their nests.

you swim with all the fish
cruise through open water
your mouth is barely open
but you sure can bite.

template on which you're fathomed
is starlight in the making
a universe of scripts
unfinished and unread
on which you lay
as though you're waiting
to be woken.