⎯⎯ ୨ Recursive ୧ ⎯⎯ ─ a found poem ─ A dune caught mid-gust wrought upon the mind’s self. Things are seldom just one. A nothing full of atoms. Overwhelm. Hand sanitizer on muddled skin. A residue of existence. Absence made perceptible only by what refuses to fill it: the conscious choice. A fissure. A crack. A structure perceived from within. All of what is shattered is still part of the piece. The piece only coheres by the borders of its own shattering. The observer becomes the lens. The distortion. Unheld by the word, neither here nor elsewhere. Being requires no witness, but we seek it. Condemned to rediscover the same joke in increasingly elaborate ways. *. * · - author's note - *. * · just a found poem extracted entirely from a random convo with Jay lol. very chaotic. the architecture of a suspiciously circular line of thought, written by humans. (yes i snuck that last line into my note mehghege) . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ poetry: @Q1nix x @jtsag ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ thank you for reading
