wood for instance
with uncertain axceptions
sinking but neverless
discernable
like a struggling schwa
between bullying
consonants
forces of will
attracting from afar
repelling from anear
a one and only truth
always bobs to the surface
of fluent discourse
so don't break it
if it's not fixed
against a void
lightless and cold with
no objective perspective
to determine position
or trajectory
so perhaps falling
is a lie
or perhaps it's true
and all of space
is shaped like a torus
covered in cinnamon
and you are the vortex
of all creation
the twisting object
of all blame
attacked from all sides
leaving no turn
unstoned
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