Member-only story
tacenda
Dec 12, 2024
comfort exists
only between two struggles;
the cold exists
only between two warm hugs.
everything
takes place in between
and this death is only before another waking,
a new thing,
born from rearranging the previous.
looking up to the stars,
I can only agree:
all of existence is recognition.
all of existence is imagination.
here’s a question to every observer —
if our universe began as your mind
would the Earth exist?
would comets graze our nights?
©
