July 30, 2016
The room is moving though it's still. The floor is rising as it's lowering. The buildings go by as I watch the street flow. Inside my mind I am still as an exploding star billions of light years away where nothing remains but the light of its passing, saying yes and no simultaneously. You can see how it flows, though it's dead, has been dead for eons. Its life remains, inside. The substance of its life is feeding your eyes. You can eat what's left of its life. You see how it's all moving, as it's still, as it's you.