I sought out the singularity
Amidst the muck of form.
That core attribute
Whose connection to all things
Is inherent and contiguous.
What could be so small
And yet manage to touch everything?
Is it the seed that spawned the universe?
The original idea that blossomed me?
Or the relentless ooze of dark matter
That grows beneath a midday sun.
Recognize that blinding the eye
Of the face in the mirror
With such painfully white light,
Will likely cause its fingers to grope
For something in the dark
One hand shakes the other,
One brain slays and eats its brother.
What if Cain and Abel are a single Man?
Sowing and reaping as one foot
Follows another.
The march of Time…
Living on forever in the family lore
While composting in the family plot
You could conclude
That the duality of a thing
Is also the cause of its singularity.
Because without the mirror
You won't recognize yourself,
For pain, and the reflection
Of its howling grimace,
May be the first thing you'll ever see,
And the last thing you'll ever know
