Cocoons

if [now] is true,
[then] must be false;
when {tomorrow} dotes upon
moments unabsolved,
then you've already
chosen your future.

in short breaths that
leave you limp and brimming
with a milestone of memories
that now crack and crumble while
in your heart time refuses to pass.

in a smokey box you lock yourself
so that the outside should reflect
what lies within; life is only a template
applied to naked skin, and we
wait for the transformation.

some cocoons bring forth a
creature changed, while others
still, lay forever dormant.