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
apparently
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