Entering,
It backsplashes
Coils like a snake
Or smoke billowing.
It spreads its body
But never dissipates
Multiplying like a disease
Encompassing pure, clear beauty.
A solid mass
But separate in sight.
Another enters,
Sinks,
Grows still
But backwards,
And aged man shrinking.
Midlife crisis.
Acne.
Fetus: umbilical cord
Intact.
It grows
Like a trees roots
Or vines crawling
Spreading like butter
Over bricks.
Mini atomic clouds bloom
A flower spreading its petals
Yearning towards the sun.
Smiling.
It is reproduction in motion.
Something solid, small
Growing, thinning
Into something much greater
But far more transparent.
Fare more dull.
Past it is nothing.
It’s form obscures the world
Around you.
Captures your eyes
And averts them from reality.
It’s current essence
Reflecting a sliver by the base
Refracted
But encased
In the diseases perfect captor.
The two evils dance together
Bow and become one.
Now the mix,
Too dark, too ugly
You see your world
Completely encased
Leaving you solely one mind
In a room of
White.
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