Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Synchronicity
My razorblade mobius strip circles
Around and around, rotating forward
Until it becomes the backwards babel
That cuts meaning into pieces—obscured.
The corresponding coincidences
Cause me to question probability.
How many improbable instances
Have come to define what is real to me?
What is truth when it chops itself to bits—
Slip, splitting open, pieces pried apart?
Does objective fact defy sense and wit
To rely more succinctly on the heart?
It's serendipitous forces, I'm sure
That decide our instinctual nature.
poem
by
Tim Stensloff
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black