The spiral down.
The leaking of pocketed things
swirling above towards sunlight:
3D text of a spilled life.

What you did.
Who you loved.
The things you ate and the things that ate you up.

Awakening in reverse.
A return to the obscurity from which you were born.

The sea keeps no record,
marks nothing in stone,
but sings a eulogy for everyone ever lost to it
heard from any coast.

the moon is a whisper
on my bedroom wall,
she's ten times louder in my head

her name is a tide
it pulls,
it tugs,
it etches itself
on the inside of my eyelids.

every blink is a memory i didn't ask for
her laugh-
uninvited
but welcome
always

the bed is too big
for one body and this much longing
some nights
sleep forgets me
other nights
she replaces it

I found a portal in a dream
Slipped into a slit
Then came so fast
i lost track of singularity

the journey is recursive
took this road many-a-times
more rerun than detour
forgotten lessons faded on aluminum
                             etch harder next time
hard hitting truths don’t even hit anymore
memory is false knowledge                             unreliable
instead follow the dreams
they have plotted the path
  in stardust
                        and
                            ­     astral projections
those are big constellations to fill
i walk bare sole now
so why are my steps still timid?

a swarm of physicists
sits in a room debunking
“the present”

                           logical deduction:
                             there is no now
                            (it doesn't exist)

                                           light years away
                                           on a podcast with nature
                                           a bug flys into my eye

I adjust course
                           a fork offers 3 options
the brain is an open mouth
                                          I sit instead
   an insatiable appetite consumes utensils too