All
That’s Left
Gentle
waves slosh in slow breakers
stones
too wet receive the dreams
in
timeless mist of entropy
the
aesthetic, silent infusion of song
Green
is a treason for numbers
that
cry for profit of increase
where
infinite circles reach greater
expanses
against relativistic effects
For
gravity is all that’s left
from
a counter-punching organization
replacing
infinite fractions with wholeness
increasing
ambient sentience in one
Loch
ness like monstrous equation
that
being and becoming
multiplies
complexity while it simplifies
starry
crescendos and planets orbiting tighter
as
spaces fall away
land
time goes by.
