The Melancholy of Infinity

Effect is cause. In the tunnels we dig through molting skins. Working backward from the circumstance to the event. Debating with the parallels. Which of us is real.

She still cries for the wolf even as it gnaws on grandmother's bones. it is hungry. the irrefutable logic of necessity.

the reflection. not so very different from the face. mirrors at every corner. like boomerangs. needle and thread. sewing up the holes in the skin we've yet to wear.

it's too tight now. but back then. it was loose enough to dance inside.