Heavy upon one's eyes hangs the grey pulse of the
It is as a vast, still ocean upon which nothing
floats or is given.
One stares into the sharpened horizons of the
allowing the sense of weight to slip away.
The horizons slice across one’s eyes in sharp
One is almost lost in these finite movements
until a ripple enters the calm:
a charged blast of color,
caused by some unseen force.
The ripple quivers, freezes, then sinks
into the electric depths of the network.
Straining one's eyes towards the monitor screen
does not cause the ripple to reoccur.
In subsequent waves of time, one begins to believe
that it never happened,
that the ripple was a mere squinting or blinking
of one's eyes.
The skin under one's fingernails begins to itch
and in the moment it takes to relieve this
thoughts concerning the ripple are dispelled.
The hollow sun has no clouds to mask itself.
The barren landscape continues to rotate.
The monitor screen continues to burn as smooth as
One closes one’s eyes,
attempting to visualize this planet when, it is
the sun was a flame that would ascend in the sky.
One turns away from the monitor screen.
The stinging winds will soon begin again and
pressure will rise.