Science
Reclining
A horizontal loneliness
An archaic white fresco
Fixed above as a quaking pendulum
The voice of a god or an echo booming
As mother, as nihilist, as thunder cloud,
Dropping slick lip precipitation
Pebble drop words falling as sky
A cup swarming with meaningful nothings
With a tiny vortex writhing within
Molecular debris swimming as pins
In a cushion butterfly bombing
The trunk with deep electricity
Toxic as chemistry with the faux-Germanic
Back-handed romances and charms of
Physics.
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