The most beautiful thing in the world is disappearing.
Eyes half-shut,
Eyes, half-shut,
Infinity.
The most beautiful thing in the world is your
Hungry,
Still-searching eyes,
Always unsatisfied,
Only ever somewhat watching anything other than the reachable nowhere.
I don't see anything in your eyes
And I think that's the point.
Famished,
Poor, and
Crawling
You exist,
Stomach curling
And stirring bones in its wake.
You exist but only over the horizon.
Searching for the furthest thing you can see,
Searching for what lies beyond that,
Looking for the grayed creatures above your touch
But
More than that,
Raining thoughts upon them like a curious god
Only just remembering
His own power,
His own creation--
Wondering how they're holding up away from you.
You miss them,
And you've been dying to see them.