Cadre

It was nightfall
The winter was about through with itself

A crooked branch hung like a claw
We've gone to great lengths to
conceal mysteries
Creation—how do we introduce ourselves
to infinity?
Midnight—the terrifying howl
of empty horizons
The ocean sweeps the shoreline
like a giant feather
We see nothing but positive and negative static
There are only so many gluons
in an ounce of steak
Everything is possible

Even the incomprehensible
The only question I keep asking myself is how to get
back inside the dream