11.50.

I want it so much that it burns
want to touch it so much that it turns my head.

Want to hang on that thread and I know it's perverse
I want to walk on the edge of the known universe.

Let me glide down the slide of humanity and see the stars as they appear to me, hold on to the rails of those cold comet trails and wander through all of eternity.

I want to see the empty page before history, watch the mystery of birth in infinity, crawl through a wormhole as if like a blind mole and see my soul being balanced by divinity.

In this cycle of rounds where the sky becomes ground, the beginning, the end where time starts to bend like moments we lend to the minutes that send us exploring in space.

I want to come face to the face that gave me the zest, that which gave sight to my eyes and sent me off on this quest of learning.

Still turning my head hanging on to a thread in the bed of a cataract where thoughts become abstract and reasoning keen.

This is where I will be seen and will see
all that I will ever be
or have ever been.