Microcosm

2011-2022

I stopped being able to listen, so I started looking——actively, closely. The curve of kelp drying on stone, salt crystals clinging like frost, the torn edge of a butterfly’s wing. Spirals that could fit in my hand or stretch across a galaxy. Light and dust that felt older than me, older than anything I could name.

If I was looking at something small, how come the details only grew more intricate the closer I looked?

It makes no sense.