Every fact is accompanied by the cutting edge of an epistemological knife, the wielding of which makes worlds.

dreaming

by Seth on January 16, 2009

sole to sole, my mirror image and I
striding above and below the deep waters
curious, I dip beneath the surface
stare back up at myself, asleep

didn’t you call me? i ask
have I not come and knelt at your side?
the shadow grasps my hand
with a solidity I could never muster

and bursting into flames I can only weep
and touch the pierced hearts around me
singing the ageless songs
flying deep under the waves

while some inscrutable gleam flashes below
I follow, but it only laughs and disappears
but never does it wander far
always flowing from the future

and when my breath grows weary
with the day’s long images unfolding
it comes to me, or I to it
and we rise together

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