Half-cooked legends
Are eagerly spun from my lips
Diverging at an instant
Into rogue, splintering trails

I strain to draw them shut
To a soft simmer
To a clean demise

They sputter with age
Crumbling with haste
As resolve diminishes
And time defers

From hair thin thoughts
Timid streams of epiphany
Some roll on to conquer
Others succumb to roving vapor

Few remain
As slim morsel and bone
To sustain only myself
And a withering façade