Atlas

The atlas of humanity pulses

forming boundaries on the moving

surface of shifting rocks and funneling sands.

I wish I could carry you to the next level

but my arms are too weak.

And I’m not sure how to get there.

Stay with me.

It is not a competition

No one is competing

We are one in the spirit

and yet we are exhumed into

billions of little pieces.

Stay with me.

My heart is drugged.

And I spin like a whirling dervish

conjuring up strange ideas.

Some from nowhere

Some from everywhere.

Stay with me.

Where will this centrifuge take us

if we cannot meet our day together.

Written 7/7/2020

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