neither increasing nor decreasing in this stillness lines drawn arbitrarily values assigned out of my control

who am i to say that this line leads to my destiny?

arguing with the vague voices that whisper in the moments between sleep and awakening considering this point or the other leading to a handful of loose ends tangled knots, twisted braids and nothing but rope burns from trying to hold on to everything it falls from my grasp

the lingering feeling of the touch of a hand no longer there

fullness known only by this empty vacuum completeness understood by being achingly unwhole infinity bounded by limitations everything is cut short

can there really be enough little things to fill these vast durations? enough to keep my mind at bay hold down the roiling waves of darkness lapping at my feet enough wonder in these small triumphs? enough light in these tiny flickers? inspiration, recognition, understanding connection

thin wispy lines, and all-but-invisible dots over and under the horizon i have faith only in that which is uncertain