life as
a flight from birth
to death? no.
take birth
and death
as givens, as
constants, not as
origin and destination.
instead,
life as a reed
bending to breeze and
eddy in shallow current.
life as slender
moment. life as
curve adapting, life as
hollow waiting to be filled,
life rooted in one place,
topping in another.
it’s no journey, really,
if there’s no way to understand
what was before and
what will come after.
Dark Matter 
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