onward to a new something that we can slip on not trip on but slide away avenues and boulevards chasing us, here, out to the country, looking for something older than mankind to tide us over while we wait for apocalypse.

minutes pass and days are easy when you spend them as fast as we do, learning how to grow in different directions, outward nevermore, downward into the crust and finding caves left behind for us to traverse.

we leave neon string for ourselves to trace backwards but we never follow it, staying in the world that seemed so unfamiliar until we let it shape us into the same shape as the earth.