A slamming door divides
Left from the right
To hesitate a bit,
At the in and outside knobs, then
Left slides away, under the rain.
The right being bored with
Boredom itself,
Stands by the window
For a while watching, the
Treading through the lane,
“If this wasn't home by midnight,
I would be looking for her
All along the other way round.”
An antique 19th-century clock pendulum
Has just stopped! Although…!?
Across the doorstep of no-question
A loose end string, then
Keeps wriggling like a serpent.
Everlasting readiness, by a crack of a spine
They set on oblivious to each other, save
As for them just to keep going,
Faint, featureless, very remote distant
Déjà Vu's…
Expectations came to solemn prophecies
From the very beginning,
According to sensible perspectives
There was something always to be visioned
Among the twinkling stars.
Burdened, both know, despite
Being, an equator apart, by
Earthly drudge and trivia
That
There is, as there was
This undetectable spot, like
A microcosmic black hole in the head
Which never stops softly spinning,
Slamming, hinging, and calling…
Where exteriors are never larger than interiors
Nor the vs versa
As there is the balance,
There is a Planck limit to any distribution
Text up a map that tells a Dao
For these heavy steps of departure
Before, they
Hunchbacked
sweep a universe for you!
Scale Fixing 