is not a space
we give to each other:
but life we take out
life we take from
the other, bleeding out,
to circle around
old paths and patterns
self centered, in balance
with the dizzy lightness
of nothing to disturb.
we only throw food
through worm holes,
an astrophysical
relationship: paradox
and nursing this
estrangement of humans,
pornographic fragments
ruling the silent hum
of how not to say
what we will not like
and how to keep
not in touch
but out of trouble
nice, without burden,
and facing sudden risk
to meet in honesty
we will fail and retire
to a galaxy far out,
short-sightedly
floating in fish tanks.
waiting for death
we assume to live:
but this is questionable.
we know that all life
parts in black holes,
nothing and nobody
comes out to say
hello, just particles
and invisible waves
distance is not space
we give and allow,
time is not a glue
but it takes us apart
what could be presence
dies at the root,
and nobody sees
the blossoms
coming the other side.
the sound of flowers
opening from far
does not carry their scent.
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