, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

                there is a wall before me
                gets higher as I walk towards it
                so wide that I cannot turn my head
                footings deep of the rock on which I stand

                I thought there was a door once
                but I can never see where I want to
                I thought to climb it for there was a dawn which crept along its
                battlements but it is featureless it silently radiates grey with ochre stains of nausea

                but that I have come such a long way
                I shall just have to walk through it without
                knowing where to go sure only of every step I take





awareness wormhole: lesson from watching two crane flies work the evening / skating across the panes flying and pushing legs grappling / the glass crossing repulsive over themselves and clinging akimbo / for a rest until lifeless just to get their stickly bodies through to the light
dawn wormhole: the silent night of the Batman
doors & walls wormhole: such such potential
grey wormhole: ‘avenue of wraggled gorse tops …’
life wormhole: divergent // direction
living wormhole: do I
ochre wormhole: “I / am Spartacus”
seeing wormhole: the goldilocks stance
walking wormhole: step