Cells divide, stars turn.
The imprint is
Cosmic.
We are as close to the infinitesimal as we are to the infinite,
Till we are cathedrals of memory, empty when empty, but never gone.
Cells divide, stars turn.
The imprint is
Cosmic.
We are as close to the infinitesimal as we are to the infinite,
Till we are cathedrals of memory, empty when empty, but never gone.
I love love love the last 2 lines
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Thank you Worms!!
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Beautiful.
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Thank you Sunra!
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“We are as close to the infinitesimal as we are to the infinite”. Wonderful!
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Thank you!
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