Hot weather
Produces cranky attitudes.
Contracting railroads
Make for slow progress.
Slowed time
Cannot go any faster.

I am spread,
thin,
wide.

I am cracked
open.

I am arrested,
ecstatic,
deathless.

Snapped forever back
and forth.

A split-moment frozen
mid-vibration
expanded to create
the illusion of
T I M E

So we can tell ourselves the story
of how we fell in love,
savor the format,
and attempt to sort
the hurtling chaos
The galvanizing understanding
that the lines and boxes we draw
are for fun

because you and I have always been one
for milllenium we are mycelium.

You and I, are
ooze and
rabbits and
molten lava and
sweat cascading
from bodies in earnest
singing through
the single downbeat
of everything happening all at once.

Existence is a period.
but the story slipped between the lines will still be sung.