03/15/24

Dazzling, shimmering dead leaves, 

The mystery of bugs and dirt.

No sky

–Closer–

Not dead. Not not.

Every sound sings it,

every feeling, 

every color, taste, and smell.

Listen.

Closer than the thought that says, "Not so."

Closer than the means of hearing.

The sound of the refrigerator knows.

The white of the wall

–Closer–

The white of the wall 

Shattered

Patches phasing in and out, 

Darkness and light dancing, mingling,

Scattered across the universe

In a single point of light,

And in this iridescent white, 

Not a patch or particle of color in sight. 

A billion motes of light flickering

–Closer–

Not flickering.

Faster than you can form a thought, 

Faster than you can say that it's happening or not.