where you and i converge and intertwine
the data from our yolks is almost symmetrical
patching our weaves to be less susceptible
The brevity of experience is lost in the skin
of the loop on the cells
their division gives reason to collaborate
when i may release with ease
and count the synchronicities
your frequency with mine will postulate
i wish to concede with a voice that lingers
it speaks from the roots of a tree
that is itself a league of woods
the lobotomy of all of me
contains an exchange of possible shrugs
the conscience molds its environment
objects reflect lights communal sheen
and all birth will reach its retirement
when my bed is my grave i will wake from this dream
an entity beyond its conduit
a cosmic hand reaches beyond its means
a shadow constantly haunting
sometimes dimension will leak from the seam
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