I’ve seen
the pixelated mirror
up close,
the reflection
that is not a reflection.
I’ve sat at the edge,
gazed
into the abyss,
wondering
if this little light
will be swallowed
in the night.
I’ve shouted
into the future.
I wish I could tell you
it has an echo.
I wish I could tell you
it shouted something back.
instead,
the feet of a generation
dangle
from the edge.
we throw rocks—
we count the seconds.
we hold our breath.
we wait
for an answer.