I Hit the Pole

The crack in the multiverse is not perverse as the union of space and time voids all solidarity. I grab your hand and the vast caress, with their approval of similarity.

As the illusion of placement divide, there is no barrier to our grandeur. As time and facades give false reason and fade, it is you that I have known; prevail we do, while try we don’t, for truth is always the finality of singularity. I have looked for you always with eyes that did not know, while knowing was never anything I needed to grow.

We are great at doing, but the verity is within seeing, thank you for allowing me to see. I pass you my watch and you pass me your sight, for now we are truly free.

As we sit amid the toils, we realize there are no spoils, for the rotting is but an illusion of fallacy. I find you next to me and one becomes two (or a singular ewe), I want you to know that beyond all measures of union and time, I love you.

Throughout space and moments, I watch you hit the pole … 🌌

The Closed Divide

The space between the lines that no longer binds, with flowing accumulation of a non-holding trust … I find myself wondering if the opened hand was the must, of the honey mustard I always missed.

If there was a sense to the nonsense, which is not a pretense, but a whimsical flowing tense of things I can accept. I accept you fully, for you are the apprehension of truth, hence the end and the beginning of all that was, and is. When the truth presents, the confines are nothing but a placated handshake delivered, for a true action.

You are the ewe of all time, not for your sacrifice, but for mine. I stand in equal submission, with the possibilities of all that was, and is. The truth always finds us, I welcome it with open arms as I am helpless against the lust of it lusters and glory. For you I will.