It is that time again,
You know? The chins
Come out to meet
The shins.

When sweaters hang up and
The sun is warm;
Fill up your cup
With stuff.

Empty now, as before;
Have another
With your brother,
For sure.

Blurry now, like back when
Grins met our eyes;
Sins met our thighs.
Your loss.

I remember what you
Wore the night you
Swore that word you
Hate: love.

Sweaters soon.
This sandpaper chin has
Got to go
Or this beard will be my
Mask until
It is that time again.

I am forever.

I embody perfection.

I have been light.

I have come from shining stars.

I am inconceivably large.

All is one.



That which is above

Shall reflect

That which is below



One is all.

We are imperceptibly small.

We will return to black holes.

We will be dark.

We are the Ouroboros.

We are eternal.