It's an open question-
"What are you?"
Taking flight on wings of gossamer
Peering between the stars

In the answer, a trap
A thing of wires and springs
Set about with choice morsels
Will you be this today, or that?

Now you're caught
Arguing with your own reflection
Casting flesh and bone against the borders
That you chose for yourself

Counting hours like leaves
And waiting on some closure
Or at least what's next
So long as it's not a question.