of the circle

A moments
core wandering
many hands invented
touching me – us
moment + the inner uncertainty
touched by silhouettes
possibly a mother
whose age is light and clarity
in a moment
the thought of progress dies
a face remembers the rock
of the bone

a circle around the things
we know

beyond it
the heart of the things
we cannot love.

Nihilistic Poetry

One thought on “of the circle

  1. ‘beyond it
    the heart of the things
    we cannot love.’

    – The vast majority do on even try to probe the surface, much less arrive at the heart; probably coz it’s already dead, or more likely the fear of losing sanity.

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