So much goes on without you, at least the part you call you. You are not, after all, the measure of all things, pivoting there through your own procedures, modus operandi, driver's manual to the stars. Only I know how two bubbles join with a third rejoicing voice. You could have willed dark and the light would have continued. Even as the body and spirit geometrize music, sinking their charts deep in the DNA, I am absorbed, creating what will come out of you.
