My unsolicited arrival as this
cellular conspiracy becoming consciousness,
time-bound flesh that knows it’s bound,
too well it seems.

The terror of slow afternoons
stretched infinite in thought,
while stars collapse into dust that may become
someone else’s unexpected birth.

I am thrown here.
I am falling.
I am now.
I am looking through plate glass
too thick to break,
and seeing the ravelling
of being-and-not-being
all at once.

Possibility strains forward, longing backward
and I am here contemplating this
beautiful, cruel miracle of self-inspection,
with mirrors facing mirrors.

Still, I freely carve possibility from limitation,
like water finding shape in caressing any vessel,
like light bending fluidly around cosmic obstacles,
or being re-formed through thick resistant glass.

I never consented to exist,
yet I stubbornly create my own private meanings
from the raw material of my wondering.

 

23/4/2025