all

i don't know if i've arrived
or departed
from something.
the sound from the heels of my boots are proof
of a move.

i think the tragedy of Julius Caesar is not that friends might deceive us,
(et tu?)
or that people are not always what they seem to be-
but that just as often
we do not even know ourselves so well.
he thought he was constant as a northern star,
but julius wavered with the rest of them.

all stars
dancing or dying
we waver
edges not so defined.

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