let’s transition into this universe made of dust and mold;
what a confusion circumnavigating the labrynth of scheme.
shall we rest our confidence in the carbon of the future
as this ominous stillness gravitates us to the core?
up and down, we look to the depths of patterned familiarity,
left and right, falling, regaining stasis,
standing, stoppage.
back and forth we go; help me to conjure up change.
a snail’s pace, this trance is laborous and precise
as we witness astonishment flaten to a thin sheet of aloofness.
unclear, nonexistent conspiracies are folded up and put away.
foresight is transpicious and although it’s presented conversely,
envision a pinhole that envelops into fractal geometry.
we end up tiptoeing through our toetapping days
trying to step forward to get a bitter taste of reality.
attempting to slide this shoehorn between energy and static,
coming close, cusping the distance between glassy blinks,
our eyes are open, but are unaware of such instances.
wide open to opposite directions,
desiring an adhock plank to any such adventure.
wanting to queue this bridge,
our crossovers stop needing such a defined substructure.
ending quiesence or at least pretending,
this is the beginning the antithesis of acquiesence has promised.
do you think eternity desires to live
as infinity converges towards this enveloping pinhole?
