The black hole. Everything is in it and all understanding (visual logic or maybe just form). You realize what you’re tied to through the mirror where you’re standing. It catches everything and the past spits it out. By design it attests “you” are where you’re sitting now. No longer watching things passing you when you’re sitting down. Your mind and it are bound a package. In a sense absence equals flagrant in-sight no lacking. A certain visual takes place in dream place when they’re rationed. They feed beauty to when your body moves because your brains asking

Your visual lets it in through a machine metaphysical consciousness
and then you do what you do in response to what you’re in
It’s a chain we choose and who we are our response depends
Our emotions are even tied our eyes circumcised or deepened
Our total attention our “self” can just leap in
It lets in and through-we seep in


The black pupil invites white light
Tell me about the iris and pupil love inextricable bound tight
In beauty on a white canvas
Eyelids unwittingly dance on it
Because Mind said so