To be awake and listening with your eyes and the electric tips of your fingers at dawn while the world shifts from repose to reactivity
To be fasten by blood-weight to the bench overlooking the valley by dusk light while cells are automatically in mitosis
There are entire millennia of sediments eroded away to leave naked thousand-ton boulders squirming in the sun.
So are you, In a sense, like the boulder, or maybe the erosion, come to think of it.
To be consciously aware of immorality, to be immoral, to know you are not free from the weight of knowing and finally, to continue
You, my dear, are infinite and I am the pebble in the frog of a horses hoof.
Perhaps horses are infinite and therefore hooves and by some miracle of complete arbitration, so am I.
I was a monolith.
You must be the wind, the frost, the heat and water
All we have is time time time.
