belfast, after whitman | lauren holt | day 7

The past and present wilt - you have filled them, emptied them. 
And proceed to to fill your next fold of the future. 

Wall over there! What have you to confide to me? Or me to you? 
Look in my face while I snuff the sidle of the evening,

Talk honestly, we witnesses hear you, though I stay only a minute longer.

Do you contradict yourself?
Very well then, you contradict yourself,
(You are large, you contain multitudes!)

You concentrate toward them that are nigh, you wait in your murals. 

Who has done his day’s work? who will soonest be through with his supper?
Who wishes to walk with me?

Will you speak before I am gone? will you prove already too late? or I too soon?