at last it started in the middle
beginning as it all begins, it forsook the source of
and that which moved flowed over that which stayed, it
made the choice to form a standing wave.
it leaned the out against the in, unfolding in a place
to call its own.
and it gently draped six senses over this house of
cards that it built, and opened ground to the roots of
touch and let them in.
it was the insatiable feeling of a feeling of
and all that it could do was hold tight to that that it
it told itself it needed names and in so doing it
this is the birth that everyone is always talking
about. the one assumed but not remembered.
but death does not forget.
the end will remind it to cure it of itself.