ankh thought

and sometimes there is silence that leads to everything

as we shift patterns like suitcases of ancient thought
I reappear like a shadow bomb
and ghosts climb out through the sockets

painstaking reflection pool you quiver with earth guts
the vibration gets louder like a fever inducer
contextualizes matter
of brain fragments underneath the table
swept up by the dozing janitor
who is daydreaming about shangri-la and fine tea essence

So I imagine that this happened
portraits of sanskrit
language of ankh holders
blooming iridescent vessels

it helps to look slowly
put it all into focus
and then out of focus
and then upside down

to determine the way out

there is no recollection here
a faceless landscape of infinite scope
I remain coherent somehow
in the bloodless form
suspending animation
through fractal observation
and carefully unintentional planning
they will risk extinction
to announce this

all colors blend into one pure light
separation is quixotic to the universal language
never any final moment
lifting the last veil

I clutch the ankh.
a deep breath reclaims a world view
the feet are planted back in the ground
and yet everything is still shaking
∆