You never really tell me why
you are here — I figure because
you don’t really know, or care

that we are riding on a turtles back
through the heavens. If this is true
the only god that matters is the story

the only demon is the breaking
of the silence as we drift ignorant
about the void between the stars.

If this is a lie and some other god
— angrier and more full
of rules and complex rituals —

will break us when we close our eyes
to sleep cold and ready to embrace
the eyeless worm of time.