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i watched webs spin themselves
between trees like a shroud woven in the woodwork.
roots of fiber spin underneath dusted skin.
wilderness decorates the void inside
with confused inexistence
absorbed into the common streams.
(follicles bud - assimilative solve/
bark ensnares - abrupt encasement
in kaleidoscope tongues)
I am the formula that codes us just like you.
I am the decomposition that serves all sentences.
all things wane in the due moments/all things cease -
to commune and redistribute
(soils consume the ambrosial cycle)
there is a bitterness in giving in,
and there is peace in letting go
(I take this all to hell with me
when hell is all i know inside me)
the things we do follow us,
stitches to mend the wounds,
scars to remind us.
seedlings will sprout from our dissolutions.
there is a peace in passing,
when we yield our pulses we yield our pasts -
I am a piece of everything.
I am the solipsist dream.
I am the smothered flame (only embers remain).
I am the nihilist fade.

branches of bones dissolve into the night sky.
dew on the shed foliage;
life is transient.

bones in transit to shed nutrients
commune with death perpetually;
life is transience.

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