the confluence of structure fluidity mired in existence a seepage of muck, crud; in it, no breathable space and I find that the desire of it burns as strong as the impossibility of it crushes and I find that the will of it strives as hard as the negation of it suppresses what I need is time what I think is time what I must have is duration, eras pass in soft rotations my life is spent spent again newly acquired state of currency the now of it is the death of it seek decomposition re-entry into this food chain of vegetal life sacred work expired time to turn the muck over where time is the fifth element allowing for the breaking avoiding conflagration new form rendered molecular to be taken in and up and held so close to the center/heart that it becomes that which holds it