In length or girth.
An attentive eye will note that detail in sense can hold what it offers - more. The duration of a stare - a star - ever complex vector in direction which picks at the edge of the horizon with every tick. And empty tock.
Above and below myself I'm hollow. I fill myself with what I'm not until there's nothing contrary to me. The venom in which I invest my time is denial. From the vista of a moment's context, below the waves it hooks into cracks through which they didn't peek to hold it's eyes to some horrific light, decimating them in their entirety. My own selective blindness. From my perspective, it selects your downfall based on what you did not account for. That moment, the one in which I invest, is what allows me to leap. That moment does not account for, say, a change in direction.
I'm walking to a meeting to discuss global economics, when a stranger standing in a doorway grabs my arm.
Walking implies movement, and I wasn't actually moving at the time. At least not with my legs.
We silently perform tasks in the stomach of some gigantic beast whose tongue forms where he's blind.
And it's a good thing too. Before that he was all teeth.
Apparently insects don't understand English. Neither do many other animals. Good thing they don't try to eat us, or else we'd have to reason with them. They especially don't understand comedy. Instead opting for a crystalline structure which encompasses and selects for different elements of the surrounding environment. Where the fuck are they going? And what makes them have sex? How come they aren't as attached to themselves?
So, love is blind. There are monsters under the bed. I am a carnivore. Pain is painful. You know, there's probably a way to navigate. Assuming you're not content with your current position. How intelligent do you need to be?
I'm walking to a meeting to discuss global economics, when a stranger standing in a doorway grabs my arm.
Walking implies movement, and I wasn't actually moving at the time. At least not with my legs.
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