Our language, our verb tenses, essential to our survival, are false idols, false, based on everything we understand about the universe, about the reality in which we live and are.
I saw Nothing there once. It was beckoning a moment of sequence.
Rename the universe. Name it as an author might a science-fiction planet. “Arathon 4…”
If it all weren’t so endless, this and this would more obviously be from our time machine, which by this second makes seconds so easily…
We each take a breath while dictionaries topple to the fresh, concrete floor. Push them aside. We’ll continue to tour yours.