In some quantum space

 
 
In some small space
in time
sits a thought of mine.

Like a golden nugget
buried
in perennial slime.

Disconnected from the rest
and so unable
to truly form.

Part of some particulate
nature
from past or future.

And I am with it.
It is me.
There making what the world is.

Whilst even reflecting
on itself
in vicious spiral

like a black hole.
Beyond events.
Never to change anything.
 
 

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