Darkness…

Ravenous like gnats, we stream towards the burning beacon of desire, only to find that we have been pinned down all along, unable to be reunited with the object of our longing.

As the pendulum swings, the fleeting instant of a sensation given forth, given back is drawn out endlessly.

The desiring mechanisms continue their absurd dance- a motion of intention whose end leads eternally back to its beginning.

Through pivots and hinges energy is directed and misdirected repeatedly in an exercise of enquiry, both pernicious and incurable in its optimism.

Searching, searching, always searching, for a sign by which the occluded will be revealed to us. How we would pity the worm that crawls at our feet, if we knew that he also desires to know the secrets of the future.

A majestic comet fizzing and crackling on impact,

Searing brightness radiates out,

The moth’s wing twitches one final time as the moment of fatal rapture takes hold.