What is time anymore,
But a collapsed dimension of bleed-through?
A walk amongst spirit, enveloped so fully,
It ceases to exist the same, here
Within me
and between me
and the points of intersection.
I have gone,
Completely on some parallel and branched path.
A walk through time slowed,
Where upon my return,
Hours would pass in days
and months...
Coagulating.
My clock would completely go nocturnal,
and no matter what I do...
It just cycles back,
To this slowed space warp,
That became the untethered expansions
Of an overactive Crown.
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