I reached toward obscure galaxies Lifting my fingers to the sky Like a lone, wizened tree Amnesia's totem Black sigils carved Monstrous in scope: Visible from space Nightborne cities of gold Ice and concrete They can wither And be overrun Cloaked by an aura: I know I will die Utter powerlessness Liberation Constellations awry A nauseating spiral From well to well But here, in the ephemeral I cannot see far Surrounded by immediacy Myopia unbound Here, in the ephemeral I cannot see straight Existence in worthless chunks Intuition scratched aside A flint dagger, once used to pry Now used to obscure and maim I point accusingly at the uncaring sky Eschatological exceptionalism For a brief moment, I forget that I will die A contumelious de-realisation An ex cathedra credo of deep power (Simultaneously, shortsighted onanism)