The machine lurches
scattering matter through
the expanding void.
With galaxies, stars, and dust,
we glide wondering across
this this vast black balloon,
this every-day universe.
Yet microns away, mirror-wise,
our image turns.
With our dark twin
we slouch towards breathless
equilibrium.
In epoch attraction,
our fabrics collide.
Thus are born
new worlds without end,
and the cosmic machine
grinds on and on
through vacuous eternity.
(27 Sept. 2010)
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