reverses

today i learned the god of illusion: her name is horizon but having heard the news you removed the vital line and if you keep it to yourself, you, all your cool, cold, your cooling words or keep you static passing charges across many hands, each utterance, understanding, still, still, the unsure ever could i be so decisive? like she tells me: poets they never converge and that never changes, because all else changes, all limits unreaching, all distance keeping, for poets grasping through grey-washed pane my graphite days some days, i speak i speak as though the time's gone off a degree or five extra over, now, these extra days and meanwhile, you, snatched from the jaws of wait - you and we, how we burned, then, through all the old news and that feeling, when, it's something new and it's something, somehow, we already knew and now and then, every time, the torch carries for by still, our question: unknown other things said horizon Yesterday :: Wednesday, 15th July 2026