in a few seconds it will be meaningless to say
that time is embodied by all movement. my body
becomes fathomless. my toes are not the sun
but the cold black nothing that envelops it.
the line will comb the planet. the scientists will
record. the journalist will leave his cell and make
for emergency and wakefulness. the bats come out
and drink their breakfast. the honeybee will smell
of rain and futility. because there is no purpose. nothing
to play around with in the garden of a minute. not
even the harness of a child danced with by spirits.
and every hand is as bodiless as a dream. waking up
from pins and needles. from the surge of blood. from
the need to feel alive. this is what we call connection
in the planet Zorg. where all meaning dilates into a single
hole. from where all matter ceases to have certain space.
what you call a heart i call a timeline. and every moment
it throbs, i am getting closer to sleep. you are a clock.
and in a few seconds my world will dazzle itself with the
rich fragrance of new animals waiting to be awakened.