Splinters the architecture of thought,
where clocks bleed backward
and shadows forget their shape.

Entropy wears a crown of vowels,
blossom consonants into the void,
on branches of collapsing opposites.
air tastes of rusted symphonies,
and touch flows into colors
that never asked to be seen.

Resodissenz:
a chorus sung in fractured tongues,
its melody stitched from
the laughter of opening doors
its rhythm the arrhythmic
stumble of existence.

What truth lies in this jagged poetry,
where questions devour their answers,
where the needle of time skips the groove,
where being and unbeing
drown in the same chaotic tide?

There is none.
And that none is everything,
a cipher etched in the marrow of souls,
like a scream folded into silence.

spinning wild,
falling still.