Picture the rock face of the moon, craven and without her, no pull. Heat from the sun would obliterate our oasis. The way she swerves round is the basis for employment. We exist by accidents so precise they cannot be measured yet. In the tear down of our histories, let us obliterate meaning outside of amaze. You think this can all not be rearranged, but a bloom is subject to annihilation and change.
[the only change was in our minds]
we want things to last even as we know they cannot.
assumption of a self is not necessary for life.
it may be necessary for the systems we’ve been convinced we must uphold, but life does not require a sense of self.
i say we can have persistent beauty. i have a necklace of skulls that whisper to me the names we try to forget. absolved of ash, this tremble. i worry about the slippery ways we lose our own places in time. like we were traveling together but then one wrong word, and all rockets into space. a meteor whose shadow resembles the shape of you but elongated, and with more legs. that’s just absurd. we say as we read the news. and then to the dreaming we go for answers.
[look for what's there, not what you want to be there]
