Infinite

Infinite: in-finite, to dwell
inside what ends. On the other

hand, it’s endless, the falling
that never stops: leaves from

trees, hair from our heads, teeth
loosening throughout the terrible

funhouse interior of the mouth.
How to go on and say I go on,

how to keep coming back or
pressing re-start? Every day

I brush handfuls of dead
cells from the carpet. I look

briefly in the hallway mirror
each time I leave the house.

 

In response to Via Negativa: Yucca moth.

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