Mist Lament

I’m made of mist
even as I grasp
my image betrays
my form
but my form
seems so real
as I sit
fingers hurtle
along the keys
bouncing back
and back down
and back again

Mist does not bounce
but I bounce
and them I am gone
exiting the world
becoming a figment
lost from touch

Is that what I lament
being lost
from touch

When I think of death
and the mist I seem to be
when death
what is it that I lament
when I think of lament
when I feel death

What is it that I lament

It appears that mist laments
or that I am more than mist

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