Wound up in the events of the day
Interminably cut in half
Then half again
Until terminated
Like a twelve pointed star
Glistening in electrostatic
Bound in gas
Soaked in flame
Not real as imagined
A sparse selection of elements
Giving way to a neverending supply
of unique shapes
Resting there
For just a minute
On earth
As it is in heaven
Only multiplied times six
Over and over again
Until it is in the trillions
and collapsing on itself
Indefinitely
Expanding
In our dreams we arrive here together
Unified in matter and fact
We are all then unified and mixed up
and what is to say
you need matter for that
A young sprightly version of your predecessors
The ones that anticipate your attendance
Wrapped like a ball of yearn
Inside us
Now not just desire
Truthfully exhibited
opposed to the way we are used to
More like aurora borealis
Convincing itself
It once got the paper
from the walk
in slippers
with the scent of coffee
high on the ceiling
If we should not make our station
Know it was only a station
not a destination
Somewhere gathered in raw numbers
Simple data
for planning purposes
Our value
Like weighing ash after a cigarette
Not our true measure
Those curls
Meticulous and independent
as they are careless and combined
Unknowingly dissipated
There resting
as illusion
or residue
or essence
But hugging cold not
Attached to nothing yes
Protected and wide open
We dance forever
Our value not diminished
by the laws of return
or the gross means
not confused with meaning
or relevance
Only impulse and pulse
hidden by dark silence
reserved for those without reservation
not led there
finding our way
eventually
perpetually
algorithmically
--
3.29.10
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