Oct 2, 2021
2 min read
Fount of Folly
Nausea wraps me in her acidic crush — what is it I said, this time? It is a perpetual question, careening within my skull; what could it have possibly been? I retrace my steps, kneel upon the scuffs and streaks of my history.
In peering deeply, unity is exterminated. Staring at a single grain of sand magnetizes your perception; the grain becomes the entire universe. The shape of it comes to completion, round and round, and it swallows…
