I am.
The things that have been said have been lost
That which has not been thought exist in time as a universe that
has not been found by the thought of creation.
You are.
Staring at a wall that crashes down when process and meaning halt
Now looks like squiggled lines rising upwards to a point that is
out of sight and mind for lack of interest.
We are.
Crying infants longing to suck the teet of logical and immoral triumph
Baboons showing red asses with laughter for and of the ignorant
with the crumbling sounds of reality.
Time stands still.
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