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Empty Spells

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Empty spells
Casting veils on unsuspecting small-talkers
while I hide behind the translucent web
and become caught in a net
of my own making

Here you can’t see me
but can witness only the shape
of what I choose to show you

The Great Amorphous Shifter
Wind-blown sand sifter
Peeking through the lacework split
Dead-to-rights drifter

My claims
My names
Incantations, wizardry
A wannabe of necromance

And you will believe every word
Every blessing
Every curse
Because you can’t put a finger on what cannot be touched
And as long as I continue to cast the cloud
Compounding long-game hollow shroud

For as far as your arm can reach
As earnest as your intentions
And as desperate as my enveloped formlessness may be
Your hand will never meet

my own