Permanent Liminality

Liminality was never meant
to be permanent
and the bridges should have either
collapsed or been extinguished
but the shadows keep burning
their eyes into the fog
of time folding itself into new shapes:
iterations in wrinkled paper,
slightly singed.


In the deep, dark hours
in the forgotten folds of time
at the bottom of trenches
in the deep, dark sea of space
lie thoughts ungathered
unpolished light of pearls
beams spinning rings
around rogue planet wanderers
pulling the threads out of books
undoing the bindings
of ordinary matter