Parading

In wind without flesh, without bone, and inside

I think I’ll hold this

I make a reciprocal balance between light falling on the back of my eye to optic

The sciences know. We do believe in art

time makes change possible and

I do dark things lightly

i hear everyone whispering:

With the redness of the setting sun

We’re all afloat in the same solution.

Change is quick but revolution