With honeyed prose, burnished verses,
and fiery flashes of brilliance,
they burn to ashes: my daily grind,
tombstones of ambition, existence.
Mystic secrets, verily, your text messages.
A quantum entanglement, verily,
this affair that never was. Colliding,
embracing; weaving tenacious ghostly tenons
in absence and presence; You and I
Probabilities, one among many
The present is alive with you, in you
What has passed and what is to come?
Time's curved arrows, meanwhile ripple through you.
Spinning multitudes of me.
Mystic secrets, verily, your text messages.
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