thrums in the locked foyer as though underwater. It’s soft
and yet crinkle
like a snake breathing. There must be something
this bridge of light to brim it to life.
this is how miterleben bleeds into the world: through the eye.
You are transfixed
by the enormity of its regard, cast like a statue
in molten gauze.
Currents are swirling and cooling into place.
Your new surface
a circle of salt, a scrum of ants, a halo of eggshells
Nothing is happening and will continue to happen.
being watched, the lesser being seen, die Göttlichkeit
a chasm of light
you echo through. Ecstasy may always be abandoned.
linger as long as you do, intransigent
Träume sind keine Schäume.