Saturday, June 05, 2004

Questioning Infinity

Why am I confronted with infinity?
Am I supposed to make sense of it?
Or just let it rattle around in my mind?

Could it be I no longer function rationally?
That the world I view is seen through prismatic eyers?

Disorientation confronts me, stifles me.
There is no reflected image in the mirror.
Will someone ever stand beside me?

from Confusion: a finer distinction
by Michael R. Martin c.1978

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