coreshine

the lint and dust
of creation, shed rabbit fur, old eyelashes
the dried salt from tears shed over 10s of 1000s of years
all swirls up
as dust devils in small desert tornadoes
slithers by as low sand in the wind along the ocean walkers
even this much duff:
imagine whole galaxies of cohering bits of
stuff, possibility realms in microfloating stubble
a realm of ten thousand-million dust streams in sunlight,
swirling into
the great recycling machines of fluff
turning turbulence, liminal matter, and the forgotten

into star shine from the dark cores of creation.

stir me, furnace of stars, see through my dense and transparent center.
generate something that shines in the night of me
opalescent, generative, possible.



-Scooter Cascadia
Denver, Colorado