One life is far too few to find the end,
where what’s left may be evidence of
Five thousand lives; one million lives
are far to few to be enveloped
by the entirety of history,
painted and woven into our night sky.
…What subtle game to play in a stark
What boundary is there just beyond? What boundary
do we infinitely encroach?
Or do we pressurize until implosion?
It is indeed a subtle game,
and is tasted on the lips
like words that struggle to
have an effect on a reader.
See that furthest space, twisting?
Look twice farther and wonder.
‘Til it is sung in poem from memory,
as study papers can be so,
a wonder is all we can afford.