Absynthe skies
forever pour
over an event
horizon's edge.
History swirls just
beyond the vortex:
matter's uncondensed
energy - diffused
brilliance. Eternal
darkness beckons,
a fait accompli
infinitely compressed.
Sacred and profane
marry, co-mingling
their assets and debts
in the universal
trash compactor.
1 comment:
absinthe skies. I could think on that for a while and meditate.
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