Poem

Writing

June 11, 2025

Plumes of smoke spilling forth like water
What was once gaseous now liquid
The phase has shifted

Who I was, who I was with
The possibility of another
Has the storm lifted?

We're still soaked on the ground
Even if nothing else comes from the sky
I know that it will
The sky will be full until I die

Nothing is visible beneath the rivers of smoke
And yet I know that the channels remain
The patterns of smoke give the underlying structures away

There's only so much randomness that can occur
The solidity of granite
The personality of stone

I didn't know there was so much here left to burn
Where there's smoke there's fine
Where it's fine I dine
Eating myself into oblivion

!Infini-fuel