The world stops somewhere. I can't see it. But I know it's there. Transparent monsters foul the math. Of going home. We see through. What it is we seek. Careless integers pretend the skin. As if. I could count that high.
I woke up the paint still wet on my dream. Smeared it everywhere. No one thought it was art.
Forever isn't as long as you think it is.
I closed my eyes. Certain I'd never fall sleep. That the world has no use for what I'd been counting. Insect bites under her clothes. Scouting the hidden itches.
I'm not the darkness. She warned him. Life. That failure is your own. I'm not the moon. She said. I won't illuminate anything. I'm not the dawn. You'll wake up. Wanting to find me there, but I'll be gone.
The wisdom of time travel is that it remembers us. Though we have no idea who it was.
Forever isn't as long as you think it is.
She says it's over because he knows it to be true. She says it's over because anything else is unacceptable.
The triangle breaks. Into so many more. There's a future she imagines. That happens the same way.
Forever isn't as long as you think it is.
It just has so many parts.
Sunday
11/02/2008 02:45:00 AM
Sad Labels:
math
,
philosophy
,
retrospect
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