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Hear me shatter and dissolve
like a pane of ice dropped on a warm floor.
Barefoot, I stumble home
and wonder whether sensation is egoless

and why cognition is not; but of course
serius est quam cogitas.
I find myself in memories so distant
they are like past lives,
I am so changed, mutation, smoldering;
I remind myself
it is later than you think.

— The End —