Can you see it?
It's only September, and
outside, all life
is already uncomplicating,
is feeling the
centripetal pull
of invisible
clock hands whirring,
reeling—
irresistible,
as a
black hole's center.
Can you hear it?
The imperative
of the thin air: carry
your coherence with you,
I dare you! Everything
unceremoniously
stretched and bent,
squeezed and rent—
and us too,
stripped of our former, worse or
better selves,
and of all of those strangers' concepts.
Can you feel it?
Never mind reason, never
mind force. Never mind
vengeance—never mind love.
After all, how powerful
could love be,
really—without any
of its objects?
A general feeling, a ubiquitous
expression,
vast and true
as the universe itself,
love just exists
unbounded, immaculate,
perfectly
useless.