(This is a re-upload, as I had to take the original down as it was being submitted to a magazine. This is a slightly edited version. Enjoy!)


Myriads of threads peruse 

Such permeable thoughts

I am their muse;

They’ll wander, prod

Suggest, nod

Until they find footing in the crevices I so carefully attend to


Yet I am not tainted,

No –

I am a means by which the Universe understands itself 

A seedling,

Failing, learning

Growing, yearning 


In the breath that is life. 


What a gift to be a finger that crafts

The masterpiece that lies before us;

To feel the tendrils of deep night

Because nothing can yet understand the mind

Let alone the extensions of the hand


I am the Myriad

That peruses the spaces of dark.

I am the Universe.

Through it I wander,

Tweak, alter 

Until each breath creates the footings 

I so carefully attend to;

We so carefully attend to.

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