Ouroboros

A pale yellow light
Floods the room,
The reds pass by through
The window

The tip of the pen stammers,
As it fidgets across the pages,
Towards narrower edges,
Turning them over
In its wake

From white to black, the pages
Muddle with the brain;
Is a zebra black with white stripes?
Or white with black?

Ink blot

Paper soaks paper off of its filth;
Rebirth

The sirens stop

And,
The eyes turn inwards:
They look white,
The body, frozen

The person has moved

Down a tunnel, and
Across a bridge

Let the Vikings come, and
Make the journey together,
Explore,
While they slaughter,
And plunder;
(A merry state of affairs)

Along the way
They die, and
The person remains alone,
Rooted to the spot

Left?
Right?
Such indecision;
Company accompanied the calm,
Now what?
A spark
Forges through the river, and
Reaches the lake,
Swims through the muck, and
Reaches the ocean

The person is helpless as,
Water is stronger,
The will can surely not sustain itself;

The person looks down
Only hands
No legs
No body
Only neck
No ears
No hair
No hunger
No lust
No sickness
No thirst
Only,
The vision remains,
The periphery removed,
Looking like never before

The person tries to smile,
No mouth;
The ocean begins to come closer,
Closer,
Closer still,
Blackness overwhelms
And yet,
The vision remains

Deeper,
Deeper still,
Stroke after stroke,
The person starts to choke,
Grabs the neck
Perhaps speeding the process,
An outsider can never tell

The brink of extinction
Comes and goes,
Comes and goes still,
And yet the vision remains

A dot of white breaks
loose, the lack of it,
Which the person heads towards,
Hands grabbing the neck,
One can never be sure

It seems, that,
The white is not light
And the black is not darkness.

The eyes turn outwards,
The breathing starts,
The pain stops

The pen, it seems, has leaked its ink
On the words it first etched out;
Such clarity;

The sirens return, and
The window opens
To let the air in, and
The vision seeks to look past
The limits of a square

Image after image
Catches the eye,
Like cobwebs on a summer breeze
And,
The wings begin to sprout,
To ensure flight,
Flight;

Now,
Let’s devour our own tails.

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