in lieu of a gilded rose
in front of a glimmering window
we have this moment
in which we disclose,
to you as much as to ourselves
a memory;
bones pulled from a frozen lake.

call it stolen.
call it entropy.
don't ever call it again.

no matter the path
you choose to crack microscopically
Saturn will still scream on a wavelength
that took 4.5 billion to even be noticed.

that's divinity.
blindly casting unfathomabilty
at the void all around itself:
king, queen, and the thief purloining
the centerpiece from the former's feast table.

so please explain to me why,
a billion miles away from Saturn,
closer to Sol,
suicide is something that exists.
especially since every truth is a myth
that, in the end,
was ripped from the mist of **** memories
remembered a bit differently.

so, is it stolen?
is this entropy?
are you married with kids?

whatever it's become for you,
love it.
as well as however it is you fit into it.

What are the heartstrings?
How are they pulled?
What escapes
when you don't?

This fornication with
the syllables of time

carved instances of you
smoke tomorrow

right now dragged out
flaky of nonsense
sings in my afternoon
of not now later

Staying up late
watching
Channel has moved

This is a peaceful
story
about a unique
Stream of electrons
that have ventured
to parts unknown

Oh the angst
And anticipation

I don't know and
I worry
how it's going
for them

I wonder
if it doesn't work out
Will they come back
I can't
turn away

-1
Colorful lights flash across the room.
Eyelids shutter, shielding eyes from the blinding wonder.
The beams shine too bright, so hands are raised in protection.
-2
Legs buckle beneath.
Souls call out in heavenly speech.
But paradise is far from their reach.
All that awaits is the endless abyss beneath.