memory—
a puppet of randomness,
bereft of the ordinary,
lingering between a must and a can,
poised to unsee the myriad angles
of wants and of oughts,
since they’re all equal
in their hollow alignment
to a start,
bereft of the choice,
transcending illusion,
washing ashore
in the realms of confusion,
with no attempts to escape,
but rather to stay
in the space of complete
senseless certainty—
that all can and cannot be,
but an averaged chaos,
lined up to a zero,
unseen,
yet all too known,
despised
for its all-encompassing nature,
of pointlessness
and everlasting balance,
of truth in absence.

(inspired by the sounds of ‘Drift’ by Garth Stevenson)