The imperial reign of our grand illusion, time-in-time, counter-clockwise, to the parading of nature's Vain texture, a brilliantly recycled indifference, like eagles nested in coins, slaughtering for flavor, Intel-inside us, life-size building blocks and the smile of cumulus looming above it, thus you, on land, a landmark in a photograph, like a machine for lost latitude, I watched from earth as you all embraced, burned, seared edges of ancient glacial sky, the calling of bastard angels to the north, canyon grids below were the net that broke your fall, nomadic hymns were sung, and it has, yes, been a long trail, and has, of course, been a translucent world, and you marked the birth of my death, and the death of my death, as I re-enter this satirical stream of illumination, where our sanctity continues to swim for dear life, though no longer drowning, what it means to share the illusion...

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