there is a broken thing
reformed in amber
disarranging the spectrum
of sensical causal motion
nail biting following
migration patterns of neural
activity and we bless the few
who cut clean and learn early
those bespectacled masses
cannot intuit the limited scope
of aversion to blurry pink clouds
gussied up in peripheral vision the
pineal gland controls circadian
rhythms gushes dmt when
we die i wonder i
wonder what that (vestigial)
little pinecone knows
that we don’t
cased in spongy
grey matter and i don’t think
much of time as metaphor but
my watch strap broke
yesterday i hope
that is
important i do

nothing so simple or complex
as love but(i carry it in my heart)