Saturday, February 21, 2026

I crouched in blasted rooms
stitching ink into floating bubbles
deep within the windows
holding clouds from some high abyss,
painted rust of unkept daydreams
crackling in long curved halls.

In the oven was a luminous egg
sending fractals into meditative space,
vibrant with the needle seed
threading space like gravy,
porous as the seething sun.

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