Post Script: NPM: All the World’s a Stage (Poem 14)

Stark lights flash on flesh
that bleeds out under the glare.
Is it just me out here?

I think I hear laughter but maybe,
it is just my echo bouncing
off the noiseless gloom,
causing my stumble out of the light.

Knees planted firmly on heartwood,
I look down into the hollow.

True self, solid form,
taunting me – its pallid echo.