brain folds, interference

dew crunches beneath my feet
—time crystals, freezing; we are
weaving through an intricate

tapestry. forward movement
pushes another footstep , an
other entanglement in strings.

all night grass waits so morn
—ing we stand at the opened
mouth of the valley , wait ,

for its fog to enter the body. i
cannot conceive of these globes
of water reflecting everything

about your form, which holds
me tight and constricted, yarns
coiled around limbs ; all night

laying awake i saw nothingness,
never appreciating its void, its
depth , now we look into

it. let its emptiness tame you,
hold its sleeplessness close to
your chest. i hear birds in my

head, see the day caked in
florescence.  i am becoming
addicted  to         silence.