absurdity

it is, it is
just a borrowing,
just a moment of light
swimming in the ever stretching darkness
it is, it is
just a borrowing,
a stitch in life and death plane
a bridge to connect what there was
is
what will be the other day

it is, and I know,
for I have seen myself get stuck,
stutter, mutter,
when the bridge connecting myself
to yourself
was built
then burned
to not be built again

it is! 
and I think I know all of this.
it is with me each time my eyelids do the thing;
block light–
for a moment
block air, block wind…
it is, and I am not afraid of anything;
but the crumbling of reason, lack of logic, organised ideologies, snakes,
and you.

but we’re free.

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