Treat me as your oroborus.
Devour me tail over head.
Taste me and destroy me.
Wrap me in your cocoon,
driving me through and out your nostrils,
digesting me from the outside.
And keep destroying me,
and keep destroying me,
and keep driving me further and further
into your sevenfold stomach.
Where shall I go, then, knowing that
my head is your head, that
my tail is your tail,
that we share the same beating heart
and thinking mind?
The problem comes when there is nothing left.
This infinity problem becomes more than just a problem
and becomes more real than the sun,
transforming us both into
How does it taste, knowing that every bite you take
takes you that much closer to your head?
Is it comforting knowing that you can see the end?
Is it comforting knowing that you can become the end?
Is it comforting knowing that you can feel the wind and the
sun and the frailty of it all
makes you feel whole?
I am still a part of you.
I am still the part you that rides upon your
back and preys on your thirst.
Eat and see what shall become of me.
I guess we shall dance and make each other
laugh, guessing at what the end holds.
You and I,
adrift in this endless loop,
wrapped around a figure eight
and falling deeply into the vast
center of the universe,
shall one day
both half-eaten and raw,
and find that this dreadful repeat
has an end.
And then, when you remove me from your mouth,
shall we once again discover peace?