Keep reading the moments

From the block cue card

We pick to fit

Projected subtitles

Eventually there will come

(A coincidence)

A face in the mandala

In the inkblot, in the fractal

Just as you look up

Their eye turns down

And your synapses

Darkened with that umber lethargy

Not imbued with discretion

Enough to separate

Eyes that widen

From fate

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