Architects of How

no permanent edges. only the fickle of angles. as the math stumbles forward. in its curious chaos.

it wasn't anything it hadn't always been. we were still lost in the same old places. only the perspective had changed.

as softly as the flesh forgets. as loud as the quiet becomes. whispers of destruction meticulously assembling their monuments.

the miles are nothing. the distance is void. we count by our hunger. we are fed by our choices.

no breadth  to measure ourselves by. just the inches between us.