#1882 - accidental shapes

 

1882

6.55

24.ii.25

accidental shapes

 

I often consider myself to be gone

it occurs to us all

 

the other places are still where I’m not

the others are not precisely

 

of course I’m here as well

you too

 

I can only doubt so many words

must trust a few  

 

even words lead us on

where we’ve never been

 

so much of me is done without thinking

thoughts expire

 

they draw me to sleep

which is an unending

 

still carry on

as if we were from finite fact

 

when actually we otherworld

it’s the only way you’ll ever be

 

you’d have to never know

splay, fumble, tumble along

 

odd angles, all sorts crammed inside

just as you’d never guess