i sit on the porch

dressed in nothing but a gossamer gown

skin like the night, as black as ink

my fingers curl around a watch

i sit, watching

watching

watching as the world re-starts in front of me

it starts simply 

with the whistling of the oak trees surrounding my house

it is the wind heralding the arrival of something transcendent and

universal

when the trees are done serenading themselves with their dark green voices

the edges of the sky curl back, paint on a black wall, a scab

and disappear, as if they were being burnt away

i watch as the sky turns on itself, twists itself, vomits itself up

and then becomes nothing at all, just a black background

a hole in the illustration that is the universe

then

the ground trembles

and far, far away, where i can't see it but know it's coming,

the edges of the earth crumble and

become

Mu

and then it arrives at my bare feet

my toenails painted white

and the ground there is no more

and i am floating in a room with no doors, no floor and no walls

with my watch ticking away

my gossamer dress blowing in the wind that permeates this...

...

(emptiness?)

...

and then it all flashes back

runs back, giving way to itself, tripping over itself

a tape played in reverse

the world repaints itself before my very eyes

before i even know it

every time

and so i sit, with the watch tick-tocking, staring at the new world spread before me

a new, identical copy

a copy of a copy of a copy

and i know

that i'm the only one

who has ever seen this

the miracle of rebirth 

the earth gives birth to itself

only to erase itself again

(and i have lost count a long time ago)  

_

__

___

a/n 

inspired by the  -/ w r i t e  poem by @queenhanakai - go check it out to see what I'm on

written to James Blake's 'Life Round Here' song

(go look outside the window at 3:33 in the morning to see if the world is rebuilding itself again)