Atom

The moments fold upon themselves, collapsing days into dime-sized squares, tucked into pockets with all the loose change that once resembled valuable hours; even those that dragged and would not end, can’t escape the gravity of the hungry night. Black holes mark the exit of every day; my whole life but the width of an atom.

22 October 2024

Time and mortality

© 2008–2026 Jacklantic