Infinity is finite to the outside world.

Yesterday and tomorrow are incomprehensible. I gaze into my reflection; the present is like a scar stuck to the bottom of my jaw. It has been healed, but still it remains: distinct. I hear the perpetual bell’s of the future ringing, a song of uncertainty and change.

Nothing is ever quiet.
I lay my body across the stars and think the world’s voice has been shut off. Yet, there I am, alive. I inhibit a microcosm of joys, sorrows, feelings, and thoughts: I am a world within a world. Suddenly, my heartbeat is turned up. The pace of my breathing initiates my whole body to rumble. I see infinity now. Though I am constantly battling the passage of time, I see consistency. It is not in the stars or the area of some shape. It is in the slight drumbeat of my heart, and the faint music of my chest rising and falling like the moths above my head who quickly fly into the bulbs, drop, and continue to get closer to the light. The past, present, and future could be combined into a big messy pile of disorganized time stacked to the tip of the moon, and few things are permanent, not like God, but as we humans can understand. These things I know are ineffably true until the earth stops spinning within my microcosm. Then it does not matter. Then there are no more realms to explore.

Today

Today I stuck a flower in my throat,
swallowed whole the bulbous petals
innocuously, blackness spread its fingers
like canvas over autumn's frail heart
or like the way you
once held me and smiled.

Again I awake in this night
to observe my galaxy. It is absent of light.
The moon is just a fragment of a
cliche poem with white and empty words,
catering to the pupils, like bulbs of seeds in the wind.
It gives me no comfort.
I dreamt of you on the ocean's shores,
and now you are only a weary ghost
haunting the remnants of my rejected sinew.
So many years I will live apart from you.
So many days I thought your arms would hold me close,
but you, being pulled by the tides of human stillness,
evaporated before my eyes had time to shift.
Again I awake in this room
to pull down the shades and cradle the pieces '
of my brain that robbed our youth.
The letters are asleep.
I dreamt of the citrus colors
that used to adorn your name
and now they are faded against the backdrop of this silent life.
Faded like the visible heartbeat that pounds endlessly upon my shelf.