In the dissonance of debate,
Now or Then,
the neural net catches me,
catches me.
I am the ball,
finding flight, then falling.
Breath runs from here.
The decision, made, not to chase it.
Carried forward in blind twists,
I trust.
I trust the flashes and twitching
are informants of a coming world,
a less mirrored place encompassing
what was,
a daisy-chain of stars,
within what is,
a popping wildflowered celestial body.
The road is serpentine,
its body thin, fast, intricately patterned.
And I follow,
I follow.