They are unknowables, variables in an equation which does not submit to common or understandable regulatory mathematical systems. Where are they going? From what have they come? If I knew the proper numbers, would I be able to multiply them to infinity or negative one? Zero is the constant, myself, tangible in my own skins, my hair and feathers. Their facade rushes toward me, the speed of light, as I lift - fragile balloon - into obscurity. The vapor from my coffee cup contradicts the minuscule dust beneath my sneakers.
But strangers look on as I scrape roofs and then the sky. Embracing the sunlight, I wish them well.
Join me for a cup.
Thanks to Kathryn, and sorry to all of you for missing a post on Thursday; I was preparing for a debate tournament.