My transparency arriving at the speed of light,
Coming like a virus, like a bomb cyclone.
Already I’m writing like I’m not here.
Everything I am is gone except fear.
I stand at the window like a window.
I stand at the door like a door.
All my mirrors have vampirized me—
Piecemeal now, time zones away.
My fate grows transparent in another element.
On this page I can see the fading away
Fading away to where my invisibility
Becomes indivisible from myself.
One thought on “Fineness of Detail”
to approach the infinite is both divine and devastating. the still whirlwind of quiet consciousness.
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