( via / via )

Unreal gem.

"At night, I write into and for the void. I sit before the empty page and I feed words to nothingness. Fragments without their rupture, waters rushing wherever. Already erased, or deeply rooted in past and future. A postscript, perhaps—an adumbration of the book that can never be." --@dreamsofbeing_

The Wheel of Samsara.

Jupiter, Venus, the Moon, maybe a firefly
in the predawn hour
& traffic-sound like surf

sizeable cracks where the sod shrank
after a thirsty summer

Wet spirograph.