Whole

As we grow old and time gets shorter, each tragedy and each instance
of happiness is spanned by but a breath. Every exhale is news in this
ever shrinking world, every strike of the hour is another dramatic
drop of a heart, making waves across the communal clock face,
each pinprick of mass a shuddering moment of energy. We are
greeted with various extremes at any moment and feel guilty
as our bodies shift in reaction to an opposing force. But
time is circular, constant, and passing. And we are
neutrons of our own, able to withstand immense
pressure, unique, individual, the centre of a

whole.

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