Flat Canvas
Flat canvas;
Bubbling brown ridges strike
The confining dimensions in a hostile yawn:
Upwards, Outwards.
Walk the world no longer, an ending beckons,
A precipice builds moments where swallows wager wings
On new seed: New breeds.
Falling buys the assurance of seconds
From a sinking well.
Oh well.
Remember us when the globe begins to slip,
Bang drums for our pity:
Our crescendos mean less than meaningless.
And then, when spheres crack, continue
On the whorl of a thumb,
Stretching hope to nothing.
Run.
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