ᒋᐸᐩ - poems

passing electrons

everything is energy
pretending to exist
a pulsing wave, an ancient voice
that measurement of time
that you once knew so perfectly
while floating in the womb
abstracted from complexity
a slave to the occult

maybe atoms pass electrons
because it's beautiful
slowly stirring up
the magic cup of tea
to find the perfect point
that mezmerizing scene:
a creature looking up
at the gods in the sky
and the gods in the sky looking down

forced to beleive
this buildup of dust
and the fundamental way that it floats