light trails

give form to the inner space, poet of the universe

these letters, this language insufficient

shadows what breathes beneath the surfaced sounds

feeble attempts to package the void of consciousness

what is here, then, poet?

what are we becoming (once again)?

what am I discovering

this stuff

freshly birthed, but no—


and the self-evident cornerstones of our being

pulse as glimpses of trailed off memory.

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treasure the epiphanies in marvelous wonders of miniscule and infinite proportions

mistified the hollow wears a cloak of soft fabric a velvet veil of stardust settled hovering amidst earthly form hush a whisper carries brilliantly through the fog time is here we are now we have begu

shaded greens whisper gradually tongues of silhouetted daylight crouch like gossiping maids and cronies beneath the gentle foliage i bend to test the smell of earth dewy, musty, fertile crops of moss